#as far we know they work together to gather the dead and. that's it

[hannieoftheyear]

Warning Signal (jww) TEASER

Two targets you need to figure out, alongside the one person you most despise, and zero mistakes allowed.

As the lives of your targets get more and more intertwined, and your plan gets more complicated, memories of the past and feelings you thought you could put aside threaten to ruin the mission.

pairing: criminal!wonwoo x criminal!reader

w.c: 915 (for the teaser), full work will be over 20k

release date: tbd

genre: exes to partners in crime to lovers, violence, angst, smut (not in the teaser)

content warnings (for the full work): vague descriptions of what their "job" actually is, criminal acts, stalking, spying, invasion of privacy, use of fake names, fake identities, stealing (both reader and wonwoo do all of the above), mentions of guns, fight scenes, blood, murder, death (not the main characters) | the story will contain flashbacks written in cursive (such as this teaser)

note: this is very different from what i've been posting so far, but i had a dream about a similar story and couldn't get it out of my mind.

on that note, i'm not sure when i'll be able to finish this bc it's taking a lot of time to make sure everything makes sense and for the relationship to be fully fleshed out. it might be done by january (that sounds so weird to say omg)

if anyone wants to be on the taglist, comment this post!

“The bit is over Wonwoo, go home.”

“Let’s just work together, one last time.” His voice reaches closer and closer from behind you until you stop walking and force yourself to face him. 

“Not only do I not need your help, I especially don’t want it.” 

“Look, I’m not asking you to forgive me, just–” He appears to have regretted what he was about to say, and you don’t wait for him to gather his thoughts. 

“Just what? Understand it? We’re way past that don’t you think?” 

“We’re good together,” your brain glitches with astonishment before he corrects himself, “We always worked better when we did these jobs together, you know that.” 

“You have some serious nerve, after last time, the least I should do it rat you out right this second.” 

“You wouldn’t do that, it’s not your style.” 

“To fuck over my partners? No, that’s yours.” 

He's trying to charm his way into your life again, like the past few months could disappear at the flash of a smile, and you'll be damned if you let him.  

“Let’s just see it as a mere trade of information, nothing more.” Neither his voice nor his expression suggests that he’s trying to deceive you, and you hate that you're even considering his offer.  

“And I wouldn’t have to see your face ever again after?” 

“That would be your loss, but sure. One last job and we’d be done.” 

“Are you being serious?” 

It’s hard to trust him. No matter how much he insists it’s his only goal. But it’s true that whatever knowledge he collected on that dude would save you a lot of time and resources, and you have to do this job well to prove yourself to your boss. 

“Dead serious. I promise.” 

A year before… 

The waitress, with purple bags under her eyes and bleach blonde hair tied up in a bun on the edge of falling undone, sighed on the way to tell the same client, for the fourth time in two hours, that it was prohibited to smoke inside the establishment. You saw that man doing countless other illegal things while sitting on that same dark booth the entire night, but the bar drew the line at smoking indoors. 

He huffed at her but ultimately put the cigarette out against the wood table. There were fewer and fewer people the more the time passed, and soon enough, it was going to be too suspicious for you to still be there. You couldn’t be the only customer left in the bar when he left, but the person he was still waiting for was the key to all this, and you couldn’t leave without that information. 

An ‘80s country song started playing on the radio, and the man started tapping his fingers against the table, following the rhythm of the classic. It was almost serene, the way he relaxed at the sound of the familiar tune, but the night started to feel more and more like a waste of time. Whatever the deal was with the person who wasn’t showing up, it was clearly not happening. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” A familiar figure sat in front of you at the secluded booth you kidnapped for the whole night. But the smile that appeared on your face at him quickly dissipated. 

“You shouldn’t be here. It’s too empty.” Besides the staff, you and the old man, there were only three people inside the dusty bar at that time, all alone, too drunk and on the brink of leaving. It was almost impossible not to stand out in that crowd. 

“Don’t worry, I called in a few favors.” Just as Wonwoo finished his sentence, a group of at least ten men, talking loudly and in the mood to celebrate something, walked into the tiny bar, disrupting the serenity but providing you with much needed cover. 

“You’re so... resourceful.” Your words mixed with a giggle as the atmosphere changed from calm and musty to a playful bachelor-esque party inside the bar. “How did you know I was here?” 

“I always know where you are, baby.” A chill climbed up your spine at his teasing smile. “And also, I was waiting for a guy to show up here. He’s supposed to be meeting someone.” 

The loud laugh that escaped you almost beat the drunk shouting of the bachelors in volume. It was easy to connect the dots, and it also wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. 

“You know something I don’t?” Wonwoo’s eyes didn’t stray away from the smile on your lips. 

You just giggled as your eyes darted towards the sketchy old man, who was back to smoking, seeing that the staff’s attention was focused on the new customers. You could feel Wonwoo’s gaze stay on you for a second before following yours, and the realization hit him quickly, the years of working together serving their purpose. 

“Yours?” The amusement in his voice made you nod eagerly, sipping on the mocktail that had been sitting untouched on the table for over an hour. “It’s been a while.” 

This job, the thing that you do for a living, got lonely every now and then. Doing everything on your own, not being able to share it with the people closest to you, can take a toll on anyone, no matter how detached they're able to get. So, when you got a chance to work with the one you love, you were for sure gonna take it. 

“I know, it’s gonna be fun.”  

thank you for reading! i love this story and i cant wait to finish it so you all can finally read it!

remember! if you want to join the taglist, comment on this post ♡

[firehananas]

While doing reach for my owns OCs, I was surprised (while I shouldn't because if Sanada do something right it's definitely the symbolism of her characters) that Eddie is incredibly Thanatos coded.

✅ Psychopompe of sort (carried the bodies to hell/eternal rest), guardian of dead (literally one of the meaning of Eddie's name: Guardian of Tombs) ✅ Poppy theme (its seeds are narcoleptic and help create morphine, related to Thanatos, Hypnos and Morpheus in myth. Other than the sleep like apparence of dead, it's also because ingesting too much of it can be deadly.) ✅ *Anime only* butterfly theme (in Ancient Greek, butterflies are a symbolism for the human soul - it's also why Psyché is given butterfly wings, as she becomes the goddess of Soul. Sometimes, Thanatos is also represented with butterflies)

Both the flower and the insect are also symbolism for the beauty yet the brevity of life. ✅ Give peaceful/unpainful deaths (Thanatos was originally just the Death, then as the myth goes on, the brutals deaths were given to his sisters, the Keres) ✅ Big Family (For Thanatos: A twin brother who had A TON of children including Morpheus + all the others Nyx's children, being his siblings. Mason family is smaller in comparaison (4 boys) but they had a zoo in their house soooo...)

✅ Buttmonkey (Thanatos on paper is scary and inflexible, yet this dude manages to get caught in a bag by Sisyphus.)

(I mean.)

(And he also loses to Heracles for some reasons.)

(As is Eddie for the Angels who always ended up with the short stick).

Now I can see a more twisted vision of Thanatos/Hypnos with Albert/Eddie, so this will be more a theory/interpretation than a true comparaison but still.

Hypnos and Thanatos are twin brothers, and sometimes co-workers.

Hypnos, god of sleep, is represented with white wings and is beloved by humans and gods alike as they allow them to rest, to be at peace. This love is reciprocated.

Thanatos is represented with black wings. In opposition to his brother, he is hated and feared by humans and gods alike, but as Hypnos, the feeling is shared (though the fear is replaced by distaste).

Now, Eddie and Albert. They aren't twin brothers but I still feel there is some parallelism.

Albert is the "favorite" one, despite being the violent one. While saying he hates everything and everyone is probably exaggerated, he is in so much pain, frustration (and delusional), he projects on others, especially the weaks (and Eddie) and search to destroy them.

Meanwhile, Eddie is the "unfavorite" but also the kind one. The one who wants pets (and people) to be at peace. He feels that by 'owning' people (by killing them) he can make them 'happy' and connect with them that way (hence his interest in Ray).

All this to say that, somehow, Albert is like a Thanatos rejecting his role (as a gravedigger) and his family (becoming ironically more 'peaceful' than his so loving brother), while Eddie is a sort of Hypnos who had gone wrong by embracing his brother's (Thanatos) duty.

[fallingdownhell]

Sumeru men when your sister/best friend tries to convince them to dump you for her.

Yes, I absolutely love topes like these. It gives so much room for drama or fluff or however the writer wants to take it. I decided on a less angsty/dramatic approach this time. Hope you're fine with that.

Characters Included: Alhaitham; Kaveh; Cyno; Tighnari; Scaramouche/Wanderer

Word Count: 4,1k

Also, Part two of this is out now! Read here

Content: Gender neutral reader; she/her pronouns for your best friend; she tries to convince them to dump reader; some cursing; Scara being refered to as Kuni(kuzushi);

Thanks for the request, hope you like what I made out of it!

Alhaitham

He would not even notice that your friend is seeing him like this

I honestly think that if Alhaitham were to ever be in a relationship with someone, he would be so whipped for that person

Alhaitham is a very logic driven man, he doesn't concern himself with feelings or other peoples opinions on him

So when he notices that he does feel something for you, he is as shocked as you are, once he finally decides to tell you

the early stages of your relationship are very rocky, Alhaitham has to learn a great many things about all this

you guys have many ups and downs until you finally find a way for you both to work together and it only got better ever since

you really didn't think much of it when you introduced your boyfriend to your friendgroup and one of the girls kept eyeing him

everyone, including you, knew that Alhaitham was a very beautiful man, so it was a common occurence for people to look at him

but she kept doing it, always eyeing him up and down, yet she never tried anything

until one night were you and your boyfriend went out with the rest of your friendgroup

"I'm going to use the bathroom. Be back in a minute.", you said to Alhaitham before you stood up and made your way over to the other side of the restaurant.

The atmosphere was pretty lively inside and everyone was talking among themselves. Everyone, except for one other person. Your friend had been eyeing Alhaitham this entire night again. He always tried to ignore it, but it was becoming rather annoying for him.

As he was about to say something, she suddenly scooted closer to him, right beside him were you were sitting just a minute ago. Then, she leaned in closer to him while she started to slowly stroke his arm.

"So, what do you say we ditch all those other losers and go back to my place?" She smiled at him while saying this and it only made Alhaitham resent her even more.

"No, I'm good.", he said, grabbing her by the wrist and pushing her hand away from him.

"Oh, come on. I know you want me. You keep looking over to me, every time we meet. Besides, I could give you so much more than that bitch (name) ever could."

She tried to lean in even closer, as Alhaitham was still holding her by the wrist. At this point, he was completely fed up with her. Without warning, he stood up from where he was sitting, gathering the attention of their entire table, but he didn't care. He had been dealing with her disgusting behaviour for far too long.

"No, you can not. And frankly, I'm not interested in cheating on my partner. Not now, not ever and especially not with someone as cheap as you are."

By the end of his little speech, you returned back to his side. You only heard what Alhaitham has said since he stood up, but you had a pretty good picture about what had happened in your absence.

You just looked at her dead in the eyes as you said: "Consider this friendship done. I don't want anything to do with you anymore."

And with that, you and your boyfriend gathered all of your stuff and left the restaurant together.

You later found out that all your other friends also distanced themselves from her, apologizing to you and Alhaitham for not noticing anything sooner.

But the two of you were just glad you didn't have to deal with her anymore.

Kaveh

He would make an entire scene about it

This man is dramatic incarnate with mood swings of hell accompanying him

I mean, we all witnessed his personality first hand in the archon quest. No one can tell me this man is not dramatic as fuck

anyways..

Kaveh believes you to be to most beautiful and most perfect person to have ever walked this earth

So for you, a being of absolute perfection in his eyes, to be in love with him and willing to be in a relationship with him?

Archons, someone please catch him because he is sure he's about to pass out on the spot

thinks of himself as the luckiest guy alive to have scored you. He has no clue on how he did it, but he sure as hell wasn't complaining about it.

You better believe that no one would ever come in between you guys. He would never allow anything like that to happen

It was a slow day for him at the Academya. Kaveh had been reviewing sketches all day long until now, yet nothing has been good enough for him until now. It wasn't like he had any deadline to retain, but this whole process of trying to create something new has been taking far too long for his liking and he felt like he was starting to go mad.

The walls of this office felt like they were slowly closing in on him, trying to bury him beneath them. Worst part was, that he forgot to make himself something to eat, so his stomach had been growling for a few hours now, demanding something to eat.

Yet Kaveh refused to stand up and get something before making at least a tiny bit of progress on this matter at hand. He had always been a very stubborn man, often neglecting himself for his work. You have been scolding him a lot for this behaviour, yet it was difficult for him to let go of it. He was just too used to it at this point.

A knock on his open office door brought him back from his thoughts. He looked up, a part of him hoping to see you there, standing in the door. He felt a little let down as he recognised the figure to be your best friend. The confusion came only a few seconds later.

"Huh? Can I help you with something?"

"Well, not really..", she sheepishly said as she approached him, confusing the man even more. Why was she acting this way? Thinking back, she never acted like that when he interacted with her before. What changed?

She stopped as she stood in front of him, shyly handing him a neatly packed box. "I noticed that you haven't eaten anything today, so I got something for you."

He looked at her, confusion finally turning into understanding. But he didn't want to make a scene, especially not with someone you considered a friend, so he tried to let her down gently.

"Sorry, I'm not really hungry right now." That he didn't want anything from anyone that wasn't you, he left unsaid.

"Oh come on. You haven't eaten the entire day. I'm trying to show you that I can take care of you, better than (name) can. They don't care for you, or they would be standing in my place."

Now absolutely furious, Kaveh was practically sprining out of his chair. Screw friendliness, no one was allowed to talk about you like that. And he was sure to tell her that.

"How dare you say something like that?! Aren't you supposed to be their friend? What kind of friend goes around talking about the other behind their back like that?

No, I want nothing to do with a personality like yours. That is disgusting. I'm not about to cheat on (name)! Why would I do something like that to the most wonderful person I ever met? And besides-!"

Kaveh was now in a full blown rant. He didn't even notice your friend running out of his office with tears in her eyes. Unbeknownst to her or your boyfriend, you were standing outside his open office, a lunch box for him in your hands. You heard the entire thing and your also saw your friend, well former friend, running out of his office. She didn't notice you though.

As you went inside, your boyfriend noticed something moving and when he saw you walking towards him, he immediatly went to you and started gossiping about what just happened while happily munching on his lunch that you brought him.

Yeah.. Kaveh was definitely whipped for you.

Cyno

Cyno is a very stoic lover

at least that's what other people think of him since he very rarely shows any form of emotion

so it's only natural for people to assume that he would be the same when entering a relationship with someone else

well.. those people would be very wrong about their thinking

Cyno, when in private or surrounded by others that he trusted, would become a somewhat expressive person

he still wasn't outright affectionate with you or proclaimed his love for you anywhere he went, but he was trying his damn hardest for you to show you that he loved you

that inculded trying to be on good terms with your friends and family

Cyno isn't the most social and outgoing person, but he tries to get along with the people that are important to you

he sometimes turns to them when he needs advice on what would be a good gift for you or stuff like that

moments like these would be the times where your friends can clearly see how much you actually mean to him

One of your friends has always been a drawn to closed of people who become lovestruck with their significant other and apparently, she decided that she wanted that for her as well. And in her mind, it just HAD to be your boyfriend, Cyno

He was on his way home after a long and stressful day at the Academya. Cyno couldn't wait to get home to you, to taste your cooking and just hold you in his arms again. It was all he needed to charge him back up again. Yet it seemed that fate had different plans with him today.

"Uhm, excuse me?", he was stopped by a very soft spoken voice a little bit behind him. He stopped in his tracks and turned around to find your best friend standing there, looking at him like she wanted to tell him something.

"Can I help you?", he asked, sounding rather cold but he couldn't help it. He was exhausted and he just wanted to get this over with and get home.

"Well, I just needed to talk to you. I was chatting with (name) the other day and they told me that they have been cheating on you with someone else. I'm so sorry but I just had to let you know!"

For a second, his eyes widened in absolute shock.

You? Cheating on him?

That couldn't be. You would never...

After the initial shock, his rational side took over Cyno again and he took a deep breath before turning to your best friend again.

"Thank you for telling me that. Have they also told you when this event happened?"

"Oh.. yes, they did. They said that it was like three days ago."

And now, Cyno was utterly confused. He remembered that day well. It has been a very slow day at work. So slow in fact, that after lunch he took the rest of the day off and went home to spend it with you.

You were still in bed since it had been your day off and you decided to sleep in for once. You were pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriend back so soon and you two spend the entire day in bed.

So Cyno was now obviously confused by the statement that your friend made. It was obviously a lie, but why would she feel the need to lie about something like that? Didn't she know that accusations such as these could very easily lead to a break up?

While he was still pondering in his thoughts about the meaning of this, your friend saw this as her chance to get closer to him. She walked towards Cyno, slowly putting her hand on his arm and leaning her head against his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry you had to find out like this. Why don't you come with me? I can help you get over them..", she whispered and that's when Cyno got his answer. The reason as to why she would accuse you of cheating on him.

He immediatly recoiled from her, which seemed to surprise her.

"I don't know how you got that impression, but I would never choose you over them. The fact that you would sink to such lowly methods makes me even more sick.

Now, I suggest, you stay away, from me as well as from (name). I don't want to see you near them ever again. And if I find out that you spread any more lies about them, I will personnaly hunt you down and bring you to justice."

Your friend ran away quickly after that and Cyno could finally return home to you. You noticed that something was off about him and after a nice dinner, he told you all about the encounter he had with your best friend. Well, Ex best friend would be a better term from now on.

That night, you cuddled up closer to Cyno and thanked him for always looking out for you and protecting you.

Tighnari

As we all know, Tighnari is a fennec fox, and fennec foxes mate for life

So Tighnari would only date with the intention of marriage and a life together in mind

something like cheating would never even cross his mind

he would be over the moon if he would find someone that he would want to spend his life with in the first place

you can consider yourself very lucky if Tighnari falls for you

he is very conscious about that side of him and I think he would very much avoid dating for a long time in his life until he met that one person he is sure is meant for him

nothing in this world could ever convince him to leave you once he has made up his mind

of course Tighnari would talk to you about all of that before he would enter a relationship with you

for one to make sure that you were both on the same page, as well as to give you a way out if you were not up for all of that

those were also aspects about his life that he did not share with just anyone

especially regarding things about the fennec fox part of him. only very few and trusted people knew about certain things, like his mating habits

so of course, someone who had no idea about him and how his instincs work, would never fully understand

Tighnari has been looking forward to this day for so long now. You would finally return to him after weeks of being separated because of your studies. While he was understanding about it, he couldn't deny that he missed you greatly.

His more animalistic side has been crying for his mate for a few weeks now and the only form of contact you two had in that time has been through letters you sent each other. Tighnari has been treating each one of them with the upmost care, since it was the only thing he got to recieve from you.

So obviously, the day of your arrival back in Ghandarva Ville was a big deal for him. He has been antsy this entire day, very quick to jump when someone has been calling his name, always anticipating it to be you. Even Collei noticed his change in behaviour, but since she knew where it came from, she didn't worry too much about him, knowing that it would die down once you were finally back. The rangers would just have to deal with it for the time being.

In fact, everyone was very much excited and glad that you would be returning back soon, since they hoped it would finally help with Tighnari's extreme mood swings. They got especially bad the last few days. Well... everyone except one person was excited..

A person that you considered a dear friend was very much not happy about it. If it were her, she would be happy if you just died in a ditch and never returned, so she could take Tighnari for herself. She always had a thing for the Master of the forest rangers, but then you just had to get in the picture and take him for yourself.

She thought that now, while you were gone, it would finally be her time to make her move on him, to get him to see that she was so much better than you could ever be for him. But it was like Tighnari wasn't even paying attention to her. Not to her riskier outfits that she wore and not to the things she was saying to him.

It's like she didn't even exist in his world. Like she was just a nuisance passing through. So, if she really wanted something to happen, she would have to make a deciding move right now, before you returned.

And so, she made her way over to Tighnari's hut, not really sure what she would do, but she knew that she had to do something.

Upon entering, she saw the man sitting on his desk, scribbling on some papers in front of him.

"Tighnari?", she spoke and the man looked up at her, the hope in his eyes quickly washed away as he realised who it was. That did not sit right with her, but she tried to swallow down the fury welling up inside her.

"Yes? Do you need something?", he asked, sounding agitated.

"I do, in fact. I wanted to talk to you about something."

Sighing, Tighnari now turned towards her, facing her with a slightly bothered expression, while gesturing for her to continue.

"It's about (name). I want you to choose me over them. I'm so much better than them and I could make you happy. They even left you alone for weeks on end while I have been here with you, trying to get you to notice me. Tell me, what's so special about them? What do they have that I don't?"

It was silent for a few seconds while she waited for an answer from him. She thought that the silence was something good, that he finally saw her for what she could be for him. But when she raised her head to look at Tighnari, the look of utter disgust on his face told her a different story.

"Well, there are many things that you don't have, but we can start with your disgusting personality. (Name) would never even dare to think of themselves as better or above other people. The fact that you think yourself better than them makes me sick.

Now listen closely.. I will never choose anyone over (name). I promised to take care of them an I will see to it that I uphold this vow. So get out of here before I completely loose my temper."

Without another word from her, she ran out and left a very strained Tighnari back in his hut. He was still sorting through his thoughts when a few minutes later, you walked in, greeting your boyfriend after a long time apart.

Tighnari was instantly overjoyed, forgetting all about the events that happened prior to this. He welcomed you in his arms again and refused to let go again. He did not work anymore on that day, and instead spent the rest of it cuddling with you in his bed, talking about all the stuff that happened while you two were apart.

As for "your rival", she got transfered back to the Academya where she would continue her studies, far away from you and Tighnari. But neither of you cared very much about that.

Wanderer/Scaramouche

God, the patience you would need to get into a relationship with him

he never had a very good influence in his life after Niwa and the people from that village, so you will have to be patient and understanding with him

He is trying his best, but it's difficult for him to feel vulnerable

he always considered his feelings as a sign of weakness, so he can't just easily accept them now

It's a process and he will need your help to get through it, even if he would never ask for your help out loud

his pride is in his way quite often, but he tries to tone it down

I see him as a very protective and clingy lover

He would want to be by your side at all times. He tells himself it's to make sure that you don't betray him, but you both now it's because he's starved for any kind of attention and affection you give him

for wanderer to get into a relationship, he would have to really, really trust you, otherwise he would not even consider the thought

so of course he would never consider the possibility of a relationship with someone who was practically a stranger to him

The Wanderer was currently out on a run to get some errands for you. Even though he protested, said you shouldn't have forgotten stuff that you obviously needed, his words were betrayed as he was already on his way to the door.

The thing is, you wanted to cook for him today but silly little you forgot to put a few things on your shopping list that you would need for the dish you were planning to make.

So, your boyfriend, chivalrous as he is, went out to the Grand Bazar to get them for you. He planned on a quick trip, only purchasing the things he needed to, so he could return as quickly as possible.

"Hey, Kuni!"

But fate seemed to have different plans with him, as he heared this joyful voice almost scream his name. He turned around to see a friend of yours running towards him, her arm in the air as she was waving at him.

"What do you want from me? And who told you you could call me that?"

Truth is, he never really liked her. She always looked him up and down and the way she was talking to you never really set right with him. But, he refrained from saying anything, not wanting to upset you or anything. Now though, he wished he wouldn't have acted so friendly with her.

"Aww, come on. Don't be so grumpy, Kuni. I know you like it when I call you that."

Did she... try to sound seductive right now? Judging by the way she was clinging to him and batting her lashes at him, he would guess that yes, she was trying to seduce him. Not that he would ever agree to any of it, but he wanted to see how far she would be willing to go.

"Yeah, you're right.. I do... like it.." Every fiber of his being wanted to recoil from her and throw up in disgust after he said those words. It felt so wrong to him, but it seemed that she didn't notice that.

In fact, she looked delighted to hear those words leave his mouth. "I knew it. I knew that you would come around. It was obvious that (name) wasn't the right person for you. After all, they can never do anything right, wouldn't you agree? Honestly, I'm just glad I stayed friends with them long enough to get to know you. We match so much better, don't you think?"

Ohh, now she was in for it. He would not just stand here and allow her to disrespect you like that. Not on his watch.

"Now listen here, you little bitch. I know you did not just say that about someone who consideres you to be a friend. I don't know how you got the idea that I could ever be into you, but you're very wrong.

So get that into your thick skull, I will never want someone like you. And I suggest you better leave (name) and me alone from now on. Unless of course, you want to find out what I can do to make your life a living hell.

Now, run along, and never come back."

Suddenly frightened, she slowly backed away from him before turning and bolting away like the devil itself was chasing after her.

The Wanderer only sighed as he finished up with the shopping list and returned back to you like nothing had happened.

The next few days, you noticed that your friend avoided you like the pest, but when you went to your boyfriend to ask if he knew if anything had happened, he merely shrugged his shoulders, pretending that he didn't know anything.

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ Mate Chapter 20

Trigger Warnings: None

"How are you feeling?" Minho asked as he brushed a loose strand from her face. "I'm worried that is all," Y/N admitted as she cuddled into Minho's chest, wanting to fall asleep again. Y/N had a bit of a stressful night and struggled with being alone late at night. She didn't want to be alone with her thoughts so she found herself knocking on the beta's door who sat up with her and listened to her thoughts. It brought them closer than they were before. Minho even apologised for his awkward behaviour with her, but she brushed it off as there was too much tension going around the house and it was starting to nerve her. "Give Chan some time. He doesn't mean to push you away, it's a lot for him and he isn't someone who likes to express his emotions." Minho explained as he kissed her forehead, trying to soothe her worries even though he was concerned himself. He was worried about Chan. They had gotten over and dealt with the emotions of his uncle before, but now that it had all come to light again, Minho wasn't sure how to make it right. "How about me and you spend the day together?" Minho suggested, "we can cook together, and watch some films. I do have to make a shopping list." "What about the plan with Hongjoong? Minho I'm worried, I've been here six weeks." Y/N stated. "Shh. Me and Jeongin are on it. We have been working on a plan since you have arrived. We have been doing some digging around Hongjoong and your pack to try and prove Hongjoong kidnapped you out of spite." Minho explained. "I don't understand." "The werewolf council far north doesn't particularly like Hongjoong either and is more in favour of cooperating with us, but we need a strong amount of proof to appeal to them. If not then it's a war. Chan doesn't know me and Jeongin have been going out to find stuff." Minho stated as he got up to grab his clothes ready to have a shower, leaving Y/N to her thoughts. Y/N hadn't expected Jeongin and Minho to look into options as soon as she arrived. She wondered what they had found out and if she could help them in the future or the next time they went out.

While Minho was showering, Y/N rummaged through his clothes and put on his hoodie along with his jogging bottoms before heading into the kitchen to make a start. She gathered some ingredients and laid them out. "If you're going to poison them I would take Seungmin out, he is a little shit," Minho stated as he affectionately wrapped his arms around her waist, placing his nose into her hair, breathing in her scent. "I can cook Min," Y/N whispered, feeling slightly shy at his actions. He had never willingly embraced her before it was normally the other way around. She didn't want to ruin it by mentioning it, instead, she allowed him to hold her, watching her chop up somethings. "How is Seungmin a little shit?" Y/N asked, causing the older wolf to scoff. "When is he not? Don't be fooled by him. Seungmin has a sharp tongue and can be very sly." Minho warned playfully as he squeezed her tightly, before letting her go when the door opened to reveal a naked Jisung. Jisung jumped and covered himself with a dead bunny when he saw his little wolf was up and helping the beta. "Uh, me and Innie got some rabbits and deer meat for you," Jisung said nervously as he shuffled towards the counter to drop the bunnies off before scurrying up the stairs. Y/N watched him in amusement as she eyed his naked self, he was incredibly beautiful and he had a cute little ass. "You'll burn it," Minho whispered as he touched Y/N's hand with a knowing look.

The two of them continued to cook while occasionally nudging one another playfully. Once they finished Y/N sent Jisung to wake the others up so they could start eating. The wolves seemed much more eager to eat when they heard their omega helped to cook. Jisung was the first wolf to shove a mouthful of food in, which caused Changbin to smack him around the head. Even Hyunjin appreciated her food despite his unusually quiet behaviour. He was quiet normally but there was always a remark that followed through. Hyunjin could see her concerns so he gave a quick smile and a wave of calm energy. What concerned her was Chan wasn't present at breakfast. "He's gone to work early," Seungmin stated as he noticed her look for him. "What are everyone's plans today?" Y/N asked. "I'm going to the gym with Jisung, Jeongin and Hyunjin today. I would offer but nuna said no gym for you." Changbin gave Y/N a smirk knowing he would eventually get her in the gym at least once. He only wanted her to go so he could be extra close and fulfill his little gym instructor fantasies. "Jeongin and Hyunjin. Yah. I don't need to be bullied today." Jisung's voice was stressed as he thought about the pressure of the two alphas. "If you worked out more you would be fine Hyung!" Jeongin teased causing the older beta to shake his head. "The audacity of this alpha. He's not a little kid anymore." Jisung shook his head at Jeongin's attitude. "I'm still your alpha." Jeongin teased as he stole a piece of Jisung's meat. Y/N watched the two playfully tease each other. It felt normal as if everything was fine. She wanted this forever with them. "Felix, what will you do today?" Y/N asked as she looked at the blonde wolf whose eyes couldn't reach hers. He felt he did not deserve to look at her after what he had done. "Uh. I'm going to go for a run this morning." Felix answered awkwardly. "I'm gonna stay with you and Minho hyung." Seungmin interrupted as he gave Minho a playful look, causing the elder to glare. He did not want his date ruined by the younger beta. He was in trouble when he wanted to be. "Can't you go somewhere else?" Minho asked, a glare forming on his face as he watched the younger wolf playfully kiss the omega's neck and give the beta a sly look. "Why? Is there no room to love your favourite beta too?" Seungmin slurred. "Heathen!" Minho flared flashing his amber eyes at the wolf. "It's okay Min. Seungmin can clean the kitchen today." Y/N demanded as she flashed the wolf a look as she passed him the towel. Seungmin looked at the towel as if it was a foreign object. "Uh. What is this? I don't clean." Seungmin argued. "Uh. You will. Hyunjin can alpha order you." Y/N sassed, causing the wolves to either choke or grin. "No. No. Let me try." Jeongin said excitedly, "Seungmin go and clean up. Did it work?" "No I am not. I'm not a housewife." Seungmin argued. "Seungmin do as Y/N says all day." Hyunjin commanded his eyes glowing their usual dark shade of red causing Seungmin to huff into the kitchen. "You've got to put meaning into it and force," Hyunjin explained to the younger alpha who was scratching his head awkwardly. "We can practice on Jisung." "Uh, huh. No." Jisung laughed nervously at the thought of being the guinea pig today. Y/N gave him a sympathetic smile before getting up to hand a grumpy wolf the dirty plates.

Minho had to admit it was funny to watch the wolf doing chores at least once in his life, but the only concerning thing was the wolf was putting some of them in the wrong places. He had even seen Seungmin toss the bowl into the wrong cupboard. Y/N pushed Minho into the living room so they could watch a film together. "Don't be mean, Minho." Y/N chided as she wrapped her arms around the beta's waist. "What? He looks like an angry puppy." Minho laughed even louder when he heard Seungmin's growls come from the kitchen. Y/N shook her head and dragged the wolf into the living room so they could watch a film together. It worked out successfully until the young beta interrupted them every fifteen minutes to question where something went. Minho knew he was doing it on purpose because every time Minho snuggled closer Seungmin popped up. Every time Minho went to kiss her, the obnoxious wolf would present himself with a confused innocent look about not knowing where it goes. Minho was incredibly frustrated. He wanted to spend time with his omega but it was becoming impossible. All Minho wanted was to show his love for the female wolf. As much as Y/N found it amusing she could feel the frustration radiating off of the beta so as soon as Seungmin left the room to place the random object back to its rightful place, the female wolf threw herself at the beta, smashing their lips together. Minho didn't expect it but allowed her to assault his lips as he quickly tried to match her pace. His hand reached to her back as he slid his leg over her waist drawing her closer. His tongue finally entered the cavern of her mouth. Minho didn't want to be too invasive but he also wanted to show his love for her. "Wow! Did Minho Hyung have his first kiss? Who would have thought." Seungmin taunted causing the wolves to jump and a snarl erupting from the beta's throat. Minho stood there with a shit-eating grin as he held a vase. "Didn't you know? Minho has never kissed anyone before." Seungmin snickered as he watched Minho's ears start to turn red in embarrassment. "I mean you stole his first kiss a few weeks ago, but Minho is a virgin at everything. You know-" "Outside. Now. Off you go." Y/N ordered as she waved the annoying wolf outside, before shutting the door on him. Seungmin rolled his eyes and walked back through the door when she stopped him. "I wasn't joking, you can stay outside all day," Y/N stated. "Don't be so mean little puppy, it doesn't suit you." Seungmin chided. "No. Then don't be a little shit. You're staying outside." Y/N ordered knowing he couldn't do anything about it since Hyunjin ordered him to follow her instructions today.

Y/N headed back to the living room to see an embarrassed Minho flitting around the kitchen as he looked for things to add to his shopping list. Y/N felt bad for him. Not because of him being a virgin but the fact that Seungmin blurted it out was horrible. It was kind of attractive to Y/N that Minho and Jisung were virgins but she also didn't want it to set an expectation because she wasn't a virgin. "Minho," Y/N called out as she looked at his shopping list and added some things to it. "Minho. Look at me." Y/N called out, making the wolf slowly turn around. His face held no expression and his eyes didn't reach hers. "It doesn't matter. None of it does." Y/N promised. The beta nodded his head and turned back around causing Y/N to pull at him. "Don't hide." "I need to go shopping, little wolf," Minho stated before grabbing her face to kiss her forehead. Y/N stared at the spot he once was and sighed. Why do they all go funny when there are problems? Why don't they talk to me?

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@galaxy4489 @mbioooo0000 @jisungs-iced-americano @maybeimmia @hwangrfrnd@wolfo2027 @kayleefriedchicken @leamueller920 @borahae-reads @jennibahng @cookiesandcreammy @leezanetheofficial @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @linocz @itzreetal987 @skzdreamer13 @reallychaoticwoo @liv1sworld @upsidedownchaire @jutdwae-flower @danceonmyheyday @jc003 @hpnsfwaddict @skzdreamer13 @reallychaoticwoo @ihttinniee @kingdomofpentagon @pixie0627 @tsunderelino @notevenheretbh1 @catlove83 @h0rnyp0t @hash2013 @hyunmikim

[markrosewater]

Hey Mark, I just wanted to say you've always seemed like a really cool guy. I've played magic for over 4/5ths of my life, since the early 2000s when I was only five years old, I even met most of my long time friends through it. But I think I finally feel alienated enough by it to drop it entirely.

I always enjoyed every aspect of this game, from the deckbuilding, to the flavor, to the color pie and the possibilities it presented. I loved the fantasy of it, of planeswalkers and wizards, dragons and castles.

Universes Beyond really was the end of it, all the way back then. When i heard the announcements I was terrified, I knew where it would lead even then. I loved the world of Magic, and it feels silly to say about a card game but I truly felt immersed in the world when I played, even with the different planes, everything cohered to an internal set of rules that seemed unbreakable.

For a while I continued, our local scene created a variant format that banned Universes Beyond cards so I was able to ignore them, but then came Neon Dynasty. It felt strange to me, like it was breaking what I had come to expect out of the game. Most people disagreed, said it was still Magic enough, but I wondered just how far it would be pushed before Magic lost any identity of its own, anything that separated it from Fortnite or any other crossover soup known entirely for the things it borrows rather than the things it is.

When I saw the first spoilers for Duskmourn, I think that was the straw that broke the camel's back. When I play at the table with my friends, I enjoy the fact that all the cards feel like part of one larger universe. And when I see cards with televisions and smartphones in them, with modern clothing and internet references, I just can't fit them together in my mind. It seems like a cool world, much like a lot of the crossovers are cool worlds, but I play Magic for well... Magic. If I wanted to play Fallout or Warhammer 40k, or watch Insidious or Walking Dead, then I would. But when I play Magic, I want to see magic.

And it's canon, just as canon as Innistrad or Alara. We can't excise it like we can Universes Beyond, and if we can't, then what's even the point of trying to "protect the tone" with those bans? What tone are we protecting, that's already been shattered from within?

More and more it feels like the game just isn't for me, doesn't want the kind of player that feels strongly about cohesion and immersion. And that's fine, it doesn't have to cater to me, and the current approach seems to bring in more people than it drives away. But it still just makes me sad, on a deep personal level, to give up on what has been such a major part of my life.

In all likelihood, I'm an outlier, and you could easily say that Magic getting even broader in what it covers is only a positive thing. Take my critiques only as the lamentations of a single person. But when you can put anything in a piece of media, when there's no unifying idea of what is and isn't possible, then it just starts to feel meaningless.

I'm sorry, I know you'll probably never read this, I mostly just needed to get it off my chest- and you're the closest thing to a human face Magic the Gathering has. Thank you for all the work you've put into it over the years, and I'm sorry that I can't enjoy it anymore.

Thanks for writing. From a big picture, Magic excels at creating variety and does poorly at consistency. The core idea of a trading card game is we make lots and lots of pieces you can play with and then you, the player, customize your game as you see fit. History has shown us, the wider we spread the potential of what Magic can be, the more people find something they enjoy and are attracted to the game.

Think of it this way. Each player has a different sense of what Magic is to them. There's no cutoff point where we make the majority of players happy. In fact, for many players, it's the ever-expanding quality to the game that they enjoy most.

This does mean though that we might make choices that don't connect with what you personally enjoy, and I respect that. If Magic isn't providing what you want out of it, that's okay. My only recommendation is don't get rid of your cards. Many Magic players rotate in and out of the game, and the number one complaint I hear from players who rotate back in is them having gotten rid of everything when they rotated out.

Magic might not be what you need right now, but maybe a few years from now you've changed in ways which makes it something you will enjoy. Or maybe Magic will evolve in a way that speaks to you. The only constant I know is you and Magic will both change. Just leave yourself the possibility of reconnecting.

Thanks for playing all these years, and I hope to see you again.

[thepenultimateword]

Absentminded

“Good morning, love,” Civilian beamed.

Villain slumped groggily on the stair rail, rubbing the leftover sleep from their eyes. “What’s got you so chipper?”

“I don’t know.” Civilian threw themselves around their neck. “Just woke up extra happy I guess.”

Villain trudged toward the table, but Civilian didn’t loosen their grip, stepping with them until they plopped into a kitchen chair.

“You going to give me any breathing space?” Villain said, even as they gathered Civilian into their lap. They were always a little resistant to affection first thing in the morning. Civilian was pretty sure they got shy. Almost like each day was a restart of their first, like they had to be sure Civilian was talking to them. It was sweet.

They shook their head into their collar. “Mm-mm.”

Villain gave them a gentle squeeze around the waist. “Just how happy are you?”

“Brimming. Overflowing. Oh! I made breakfast!”

They hopped out of Villain’s arms and swept a great plate of chocolate chips pancakes from the counter.

“You’re pancake happy?” Villain said a little surprise in their tone. “You usually only get pancake happy on your birthday or our anniversary.” They stiffened. “It’s not our anniversary is it?”

Civilian smiled, placing a reassuring hand on Villain’s shoulder. “No. It’s sort of weird I suppose. I just woke up early this morning and I was looking at you—“

“Creep.”

“Shut up.” Civilian punched them in the shoulder. “I was looking at you, and I just started thinking how happy I am that I found you. You know from the moment we met…it was like I knew you. Like I’d always known you. I guess that’s how I figured it out.”

“Figured out what, my heart?”

“That we were meant to be together.”

Villain’s smile froze, thawed into a sort of grimace, then froze again wider. A sort of thin, strained thing, like a wash rag wrung out too many times.

Civilian backtracked. “That’s cheesy isn’t it?”

“No! No! It’s wonderful! I just feel guilty! You knew much sooner than I did. I let you chase after me for far too long. I don’t…I don’t always think I deserve you.”

Civilian grinned. “I didn’t mind. You’re just more cautious. I like that about you.”

They kissed Villain’s cheek and plopped down in the seat beside them, dividing pancakes between their plates. Villain’s eyes followed their movements as they slathered the stack with butter and cream and doused it all in syrup.

“How’s work? Any schemes planned for the day?”

Villain cut their stack in section and skewered three pancake pieces on their fork. “Not until evening, but I have to leave in a couple hours to organize it. It’s a museum heist, so I’ll be home a little late.”

Civilian nodded. “Are things smoother for you without Hero around?”

Villain choked on their breakfast. Civilian leaped for the pitcher, messily pouring a glass of water, and shoving it into Villain’s hand, then rubbing their lover’s back as they chugged it down.

“Hero?” Villain croaked once they had a hold of themselves. “Why are you thinking about them all of a sudden?”

Civilian didn’t stop rubbing their back. “I saw on the news they’re putting up a memorial statue in the park this afternoon. It’s been three years since they went missing, right? How well did you know them?”

“Fairly well.”

“Oooh?” Civilian rose their eyebrows.

“Not like that. I don’t know. We just fought. It wasn’t like we actually knew knew each other.”

Civilian nodded idly. That was about what they had expected. It was just their reactions around mentions of Hero were somewhat guarded. They supposed one didn’t have to be close to somebody to be struck by their loss. “What do you think happened?”

“They probably just settled down.”

“You think they’re ok?” It was the first they’d heard that theory, most everyone thought the vigilante was dead or kidnapped or undercover.

Villain nodded. “They weren’t the type to let someone get the jump on them. Besides they were always miserable as a hero.”

Civilian cocked their head.

“They were just always exhausted and angry and breaking down. I don’t think they liked being a hero, even if they were good at it. Anyway…” Villain ate the last bite of pancake and stretched their arms over their head as they rose. “I better get dressed and get going. What are you doing today?”

“Just grocery shopping,” Civilian said. “I’m going to make orange chicken for dinner.”

“Stop spoiling me,” Villain said, kissing them first on the head.

“I guess I just can’t help it. …I love you.”

Villain hesitated, but eventually, they took Civilian’s face in their hands and pressed a long kiss to their lips. “I love you too.”

***

Civilian swung the grocery bags in rhythm with their steps. The music blasting from the speakers in the square had them swaying and skipping like a dance more than a walk. A crowd of people were gathered across the street, some dressed in blue masks and capes.

Right. The unveiling.

Civilian idly crossed the street toward the crowd. They couldn’t stay long—they had ice cream in their bag—but they couldn’t say they were uninterested in this memorial. Hero intrigued them. What sort of person was willing to sacrifice so much for other people? Even after they disappeared, they were still making an impact. There was something sort of amazing and sad about all that.

The music died down and the microphone squealed in the hands of a smartly dressed woman in a grey pencil skirt and puffy, white blouse standing on the steps in front of the covered statue.

A dull pain started behind Civilian’s eyes. Was getting up so early affecting them?

“Welcome, everyone. I appreciate you all coming out this afternoon for Hero’s statue unveiling. Hero was my friend. No, more than that. They were my mentor. And I was with them the night they disappeared. You've probably all read the story. We got a call for help at an old factory, and Hero ran ahead.

“I was only a few feet behind when I saw a flash of light through the windows. When I got inside, Hero was gone. I never saw them again. Sometimes I still expect them to turn a corner or walk onto our old training grounds. To come back into my life.”

The pain spread up into Civilian’s forehead and temples, a throbbing sensation like someone knocking on a door to get in. Or maybe to get out.

Civilian clutched the side of their face. What was going on? A really bad migraine? They probably should just head home for some pain medication and lie down. And yet…they couldn’t seem to move. They picture the scene the woman had described clearly. Almost like each painful throb was focusing the picture clearer in their head. Had they been to the same factory? Maybe they’d seen a picture in the news when Hero first went missing.

The woman stared out across the crowd.

"It left me wondering, what do we do when the person who does the saving needs saved?" She paused. "We step up. We become the heroes. Hero inspired me to be better; they wanted all of us to be better. And today we honor their belief that ‘everyone possesses a little bit of heroism; they just have to be brave enough to use it.’”

Another stab of pain, worse than the others. Almost like their skull was being ripped in two. A scream pushed up their throat, lying threateningly just behind their teeth.

Villain. They should call Villain. They dropped one grocery sack and fumbled for their phone.

“Hero was always secretive about their identity,” the woman continued in the background, “but for the first time, I would like to share with you all the face of a hero. I would like to give them the honor and credit they deserve. Ladies and gentleman…our Hero.”

The sheet dropped.

Civilian’s scream was lost in the ecstatic shouts and applause. They dropped to their knees, legs and heads and bags blocking everything the bright spots flashing across their vision did not. For moment all they could do was tuck their head into their chest against the concrete and wait, trembling fingers still a button click away from calling Villain.

After what seemed like forever, the pain dulled and they were able to stumble upright.

Slowly, they blinked the blur from their eyes, taking in the horror of what they now already knew: the statue wore their face.

***

Villain flicked on the hall lights just after midnight.

Hero sat at the center of the room, kitchen chair dragged right into the entryway.

“Sweetheart?” Villain blinked a few times. “What are you doing sitting in the dark?” They seemed to quickly read the wrongness in their face. “Is this about missing dinner? I’m sorry, I should have called, but—”

“I’m Hero.”

Villain froze. Reddened. Paled. Ever the chameleon.

“Ah, so you did know.” They weren’t sure if that was better or worse. If Villain had fallen in love with them as a civilian maybe Hero could have excused them and saved some of the aching, quivering shards of their broken heart. But knowing that the deception had been intentional, well, now Hero had the freedom to explode.

“How did you…?” Villain swallowed. “Do you remember everything?”

“Not everything, but I remember you. And I remember me. And enough events between us to know this never should have happened.”

Villain took a step forward, and immediately, Hero stood to take a step back. Another step forward. Another step back. Forward. Back. Forward. Back. Until Hero was up against the wall and Villain only an arms length apart.

“We can talk about this,” Villain said, outstretching their hand.

Hero only stared.

“In what world is this getting solved with a talk? Our entire relationship, the entire three years we’ve been together, are a lie.”

“But you’re happy! You said it yourself! You’re brimming with happiness! Overflowing with happiness! With me!”

Hero slammed their fist into the wall behind them.“Happy? You took advantage of me! Manipulated me!”

At that, Villain looked affronted. “I didn’t manipulate anyone! You approached me that night! I tried to send you away; I tried multiple times to avoid you; you didn’t want to. And when I did give in, I never pretended to be anyone other than I am. I even told you what I do, and you were all too accepting, like you’d dealt with it every day.”

“Because I had!”

“Then what was I supposed to do?” Villain cried, throwing their hands in the air.

“You could have told me!”

“That would have defeated the point!”

Hero went rigid. Villain covered their mouth. Their eyes plead for mercy Hero was not capable of giving.

“You did this?”

Villain’s lip trembled. “It was meant to be temporary. A few hours. I didn’t know it was going to last three years! I tried to make it right at first! I tried to trigger memories or to come up with some sort of reversal machine, but I couldn’t figure it out, and meanwhile, you kept coming and coming and you just seemed happier this way! And things got so good, I got scared of ruining it!”

Hero stared them down, waiting for the ramble to sputter out. Their reply was slow and cold.

“You gave me amnesia and then made me love you!”

“I didn’t make you love me.” They took Hero’s chin. “It just happened.”

And that was what hurt the most. Hero couldn’t deny it. No matter the false circumstances or how their returned memories rebelled, the feelings had been real. But veracity did not make any of it alright.”

“Then I guess this is where it ends.” Hero smiled weakly. “Goodbye, Villain.”

They felt past feeling as they edged around their lover ex-lover nemesis’s shocked form, picking up their bag, packed and ready for the last six hours, at the door.

“Hero!” Villain lurched forward, seizing them by the wrist and yanking them around. Their other hand tangled in their hair as the pulled into a desperate kiss, gruff and noxious and pleading.

Hero stomped hard on their foot, ripping away as Villain yowled and fell back. The criminal barely allowed the pain a second thought, scrambling after Hero’s determined stride.

“Hero! Hero, I love you! I love you, I love you, I love—”

“You do not!” Hero shouted. Regrettably some emotion edged in on their fury; a few tears slid down their cheek. “You loved a version of me. A dead one. A made up one. Maybe I made them up. But they are not me.”

They stormed out without another word, leaving Villain crumpled and weeping on the floor.

Master Taglist

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[possessionisamyth]

Not to kick a dead horse, but there is a way to make Pier's death genuinely very loaded and tragic that fandom consensus just seems to continue to miss! I've never seen a take about Piers's death being about PIERS, but all about "ooohh chris lost a good one" and how the two are not able to fuck anymore. But I am going to free you from these shackles while I zero in on Chris' comment of

"I wanted him to replace me."

Surely Piers was being trained to take Chris' job ideally after a decent retirement party, but neither of them get that luxury because Edonia happens, and Chris is gone. The beloved captain has vanished, and the person who's supposed to take his job is right there, so they give it to him. It's Piers responsibility to not only be a face of what the BSAA represents, but also the heavy shackles of expectations are slapped onto him.

Everyone wants Chris, which means Piers can't be himself nor figure out how to run the same jobs his way. No, it has to be Chris' way. There's no time for anyone to adjust and shift gears either with the C-Virus outbreaks, the terrorist attacks from Ada*(Carla), and the search party he shambled together to locate the missing Redfield. So he tries his damnedest to fill Chris' shoes and suddenly realizes just how out of his depth he is. There were so many reasons people called Chris for certain tasks, even tasks Piers hadn't known about and definitely hadn't been trained on, that Piers never saw. There's no mentor to dial. No reference other than fellow soldiers saying things like, "We don't know how, he just got it done," which is the least helpful thing in the world. Hell, there's barely any notes to go through when he searches Chris' office for a semblance of a hint as to how he should do this job.

Maybe it turns out Chris was doing his best to gently ease that heavy mantle into Piers' hands. It's why his scheduled retirement seemed so far away at the time. Perhaps, after one comment too many where he'd been accidentally addressed by the name of his captain for the 50th time, Piers breaks. He can't do this. He's not ready for this. He needs the one person who did all this back by any means necessary, so he drops all the work and joins the search party. He verbally harasses an amnesiac Chris into coming back because maybe it isn't that bad. Maybe Chris just needs a reminder of what he's been doing everyday for literal years and things would be back to normal again.

But it's not. It's messier. It's uglier. This isn't the Chris he worked so hard to fight alongside. There are glimpses of him in there, but most of the time in China, Piers feels like he's working with a stranger. People die, and Chris keeps pushing forward no matter how much he's shouted at, and Piers feels like this is all his fault. The deaths are his fault because he couldn't buckle down and do what Chris originally wanted him to do. Take Chris' place. Replace him. Be better than him.

So when they go to that underwater facility, and their backs are against the wall, there's the looming sense of failure and a terrifying amount of pressure. If they get out of this alive, who knows when Chris would be back in shape to work again if that ever happens. Piers would have to be responsible. He was already responsible for the squad he gathered to take up this job, and they were skewed into pieces around downtown Lanshiang. Take Chris' place. Replace him. Be better than him, and Piers failed on all accounts. He couldn't get Chris back the way he was supposed to be. His squad was dead. The responsibility he'd have to take up if they made it out alive would be nigh unbearable, and then he gets infected.

He gets infected and suddenly the decision is so easy. To let go. To hope for the best. To be the one left behind when he was supposed to be the one moving towards the future. Another glimpse of the Chris that Piers knew is seen, a more confident glimpse wherein Chris does everything he can to try and save him. And Piers smiles when Chris fails. When he saves Chris. When he seems to finally do one thing right after things never seemed to stop falling apart.

It's the last thing Chris sees. That smile and the ever encroaching weight of immeasurable responsibility that'll grasp him tight as soon as he breaks the surface. The weight Piers couldn't take from him, and maybe never wanted in the first place.

[wasyago]

How much of Tango and Pearl are still in there? How much are they vaguely aware of their actions and surroundings, feverishly shambling around like zombies, two dead puppets of the caves? Like, the skulk invading their thoughts until their own voices are just a quiet whisper in their own head? Do they remember Etho? Do they feel anger for what he did? Leaving them to die? And, most importantly, has the cave claimed anyone else we might know?

please I’m hungry for TGCAU lore

they are kind of like zombies, yeah! for how aware they are, it's like, they don't really know how they got from one place to the other or how much time has passed, but when the change of scenery is drastic enough they go "‼️" and pay attention for a while until going back to the kind of mindless state they were in.

sculk isn't exactly invading their thoughts, because there's no more their thoughts, it's all somewhat collective. one body feels it more than the other, but everything is still shared. and, well, they died, so. it's a little hard to generate thoughts all on your own when you're dead...

if you remember, sculk in minecraft gathers and stores the exp of a mob that died near it, and then grows and expands using that exp. it works similarly here. the cave gathers the life experiences, memories, life essence, and uses it to grow physically and to expland its "knowledge pool" or something. the cave isn't sentient, it can't talk, but it stores information.

so they do remember etho! but their memories of him are merged together now, and merged with the cave's own memories of him too. etho is a friend, etho left them, etho is almost like them he just needs to return, etho is alive, etho is too far away, etho hurt them, etho is bad, etho is good. there's no cause and effect reasons for their feelings, it's just feelings that they associate with the memories. memories of etho are mostly good, they miss him tho, they need him back.

not sure about any other characters, i kinda want to try and keep the au to only these four. makes it more contained.

[uhohbestie]

There Are Monsters Nearby [Chapter 42]

🏜 Pairing: Grian/Scar

🧟‍♂️ Tags: zombie AU, zombie apocalypse, lovers to exes, slow burn, eventual reconciliation

📖 Summary: The day after Scar breaks up with Grian, the dead come back to life. Knowing that venturing out alone is a death sentence, the sudden onset of the apocalypse forces them to stick together despite their tensions. In the wreckage of the world, they're forced to survive side-by-side, coming to terms with the fact that—try as they might—there's still no one they trust more than each other.

Chapter 42 - The story of There Are Monsters Nearby concludes as Scar and Grian turn away from their past and look towards the future.

📝 Words: 11,088

🔗 Link: Read Chapter 42 on AO3

—

“I want you to get Pop Tarts,” Grian says, his attention cast to the side while Scar works, looking towards the settlement in the distance. It’s a fair ways off, looking more like a grey-brown smudge from where they stand— a collection of RVs and camper vans clustered close together in the lee of a grassy ridge, the surrounding hills fringed in sparse junipers and hardy looking spruce saplings. There’s an open space between them, dotted with small lumps that Scar knows are grazing cattle and a clustered herd of goats.

The ruins of a city lay further off to the east, the handful of buildings not blackened from fire standing empty and abandoned. It’s from there that the zombies have been drifting out, a perpetual source of mindless, wandering horror. Though now, thanks to Scar’s aim and Grian’s tenacious knack for violence, the tide will hopefully have been stemmed to some degree.

“And whatever milk and cheese they’ve got. I saw all their animals, there’s no way they don’t have dairy to spare.”

It’s an endearing quirk that Grian has adopted ever since it became clear his diet was permanently changed. He likes to pick things for Scar to eat now, planning and suggesting his meals with whatever they scavenge, hunt, and barter. He’s never been a good cook, not even before the world fell apart, but it’s been sweet the way he's applied himself to improving, the two times he gave Scar food poisoning already becoming fond memories in their own way.

When the last zombie’s head has been separated from its body, Scar yanks a glove onto his hand and begins gathering them all, shoving each one into a canvas sack that he uses for the sole purpose of demonstrating their worth to any sceptical marks they come across. Once he’s done, he sets the bag down, putting out his arm and drawing Grian in close.

“Good work out there,” he compliments, pressing a kiss to the top of his partner’s head. Grian’s hair is clean and smells incredibly good—like sandalwood and something crisp—everything about him well-maintained, despite the state of the world around them. “You really treated those googlies like you had a score to settle.”

Without hesitation Grian leans into Scar’s touch, the easy return of his affection still a novelty, despite how many weeks Scar’s been allowed and able to enjoy it.

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” he offers, his words mumbled sweetly into the thick flannel of Scar’s shirt. “You’re getting to have a real hawk-eye with your aim, you know.”

“I love it when you say I’m a hot guy,” Scar preens, deliberately mishearing him. “Got a real nice ring to it.”

[ read more ]

—

Chapter 42! 380k words and ten months later, we are so happy to announce that we've come to the end of our story. While there's still so much more of TAMN left that we plan to write and share, this portion is over, and we couldn't be happier. Thank you so, so much for going on this journey with us, and we hope you enjoy the epilogue and ending of There Are Monsters Nearby 💜🧡

You can read the whole fic thus-far in the link below ↓↓↓

You may not rest now, There Are Monsters Nearby (on ao3!)

[sunlitlemonade]

From The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows:

the kick drop n. the moment you wake up from an immersive dream and have to abruptly recalibrate to the real world—unquitting your job, falling right back out of love, reburying your lost loved ones. In American football, the drop kick is when a player drops the ball and kicks it as it bounces off the ground, used as a method of restarting play.

—

16th August. 8:45 pm. 

“There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Cass stands beside him, silent and patient. 

“Happy birthday, kid,” he says and chokes on it, the unerasable love, the still-festering guilt. He closes his eyes for a second. 

Haltingly, which is uncharacteristic, Cass speaks to fill the heavy air. “No one talks about him. All I know is… he was the second Robin. And that the Joker ki—”

He cuts her off, the words an unnecessary reminder. The wound is ever-present and dear and he pokes at it like he can’t bear for it to heal. On this day though, every year since his passing, he shoves his hand inside and parses his fingers out with blood and the remains of his mangled heart trailing behind. 

“He would have been eighteen today. He loved cars and girls and getting into fights…. Neapolitan ice-cream and the colour green,” he pauses, gathering meagre strength. “And most of all he loved the thrill of being Robin.”

Robin gives me magic! 

—

16th August. 9 pm. 

Alfred sets dinner. Cass insists on helping. Alfred refuses. Cass doesn’t listen. 

He sits and watches. 

Finally they settle down and eat. He barely manages to stomach it. 

This is a spiral he knows well, he has memorised every curve. He knows exactly how deep he has managed to reach. 

He knows he can go far lower.

—

16th August. 9:25 pm.

The bedroom’s air is stale. He’s hardly spent much time here in the past week. He sees how quickly things grow old, how easily the air shrinks in a space closed-off and forgotten. 

His feet take him to his [dead] son’s room. [Dead. He’s dead. He died three years ago. He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s—]

He doesn’t open the door. He goes back to his room, shuts the door behind him. 

—

He wakes up to a pleasantly sunny day. He stretches luxuriously and hears footsteps bound up the stairs. It’s Tim. 

He pounds at the door and tells him to “Rise and shine!”. Before Bruce can answer, the door is thrown wide open and Ace bounds in, jumping on the bed like he owns it. First, he slobbers all over Bruce’s face with his tongue. Then, he sits back and looks at him expectantly. 

Absent-mindedly scratching him behind his ears, he raises a brow at Tim, who’s leaning against the threshold. “Good morning. You’re supposed to be at school.”

“And you were supposed to drop me off before your meeting today.”

…. He did promise that, didn’t he? He sighs and shoots him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry—”

Tim waves it off with a flippant gesture. “Oh, it’s fine. We had a presentation today, I’m glad I could skip. I had nothing ready.”

“Tim.” 

“What? I was busy, alright? Anyways, I’m grievously sick and Mrs. Wilkins feels bad for me so I have an extension.”

“Maybe you should use that time to complete your work instead of terrorising me.”

“I’m holding you accountable. You were the one supposed to be dropping me off!”

“Why didn’t you ask Jason?”

“He said he had to pick up Rena on his way to college and if he took a detour to drop me off he would be late.”

“That’s fair.”

“Want to know why I had to resort to even asking him? Take a wild guess.”

He sighs again. “Because I didn’t drop you off. I’m sorry, it was a really hectic day yesterday. We could get some donuts together later?”

“Hmm. Ace, come on, boy. Come here.”

“Where are you both going?”

“For a morning walk.”

“It’s eleven. It’s sunny.” 

“A midday walk then,” Tim replies, undeterred. “Besides, some sunshine once in a while might do you good.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

Tim’s face scrunches up with barely concealed offence. “Hey! We don’t get any sunlight here as it is and I have time to kill today—”

“Untrue. You have pending work—”

His volume picks up to support the thin veil of ignorance and procrastination. “SO! I will be walking Ace today. Right now. Your meeting is in twenty minutes.”

“Fuck.” He could dump it on Lucius. He hears Ace’s excited barks as Tim takes him down the stairs. He has already failed at being an adult today. 

He fumbles into the meeting nearly an hour late and throws an airheaded smile to the room. It’s long, it’s boring, he signed up for it.  

By the time he gets back home it’s late in the evening. Talia is back too after a day of browsing gowns to dazzle every guest at Dick’s upcoming wedding. She presses her smile against the corner of his mouth and Bruce chases after it like he doesn’t get to kiss her everyday. 

“Found a dress?”

“I’m getting it custom-made.”

Of course she was. Thorny as her relationship with Dick was, Talia had taken to the preparations like a particularly invested fairy godmother pulling ideas, locations, caterers and gods knew what else from all around the world. So far, they had settled on New York (because Dick insisted), though they didn’t have the venue decided just yet, and a baker known for crafting beautiful cakes. 

They still had months to go but Talia wasn’t one to budge. She thought Bruce and Tim needed something better to wear for the reception whereas wholeheartedly approved of whatever Jason had decided upon. He had told her it was favouritism. She had only smiled and said Jason had good taste. 

He pulls her into a proper hug, sighing against her neck. Her nails scratch against his scalp slightly when her fingers sift through his hair. He presses her closer wanting to melt into one, they fit so perfectly. The rose brooch pin holding her dress together at her shoulder digs into his chest though and he pulls back. Sometimes being too close hurts. 

She kisses him once more before calling out to Cass, who was walking past making a mock gagging gesture, and steering her towards the staircase. 

Alfred passes by behind him and Bruce turns around to see him opening the doors for Jason. He spots the red convertible that's his son’s favourite parked near the fountain. 

Windswept curls and flushed cheeks, bright eyes and an even brighter smile. Bruce’s heart squeezes with affection so dangerously hard that he risks his ribs folding in on themselves. 

“Hey, old man.”

His smile is too large and loopy, he knows it. He can’t help it. “Jay.”

Hands shoved in his green jacket's pocket, Jason gets closer and his smile blooms into a grin to match Bruce’s own. “What’s got you smiling?”

“Nothing.”

A raised brow. He was so much like Bruce but only the best parts. Bruce couldn’t be more thankful. 

“Seriously, it’s nothing,” Bruce insists to avoid being called a sap. “How was college today?”

He started only a month back and had been loving it so far. Bruce still asked whenever he could because he couldn’t help but fret. 

Jason rolls his eyes but it’s half-hearted. “Good,” he says, then adds, “I went out with Rena after class.”

“Oh? Where?”

“Ah, well, we were only hanging out, got some ice-cream.”

“Uh-huh.” 

“Dad.”

His heart skips a giddy beat. Dad. 

“What? I’m happy for you.” It's a feeble act of innocence and Jason is obviously unimpressed by it. 

“She’s just a friend.”

“Yet you mention her without me having to prompt you.”

And oh, the grumpy pout on his face at that. His spitfire of a son could be the sweetest. 

“I just don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

A sardonic smile. “Sure. That’s helpful. Thanks.” 

“Listen, I don’t know how I got here either.”

“Talia pitied you.” 

Bruce ruffles his bedhead. “Brat.”

“You know it’s true.”

Bruce sighs. It seems like parents do a lot of sighing. “It is.” 

“Now that this is settled,” Alfred cuts in, “could you both make your way to the living room of the West Wing’s first floor? Master Timothy says it is movie night. Food will be served there.” 

Alfred hated having them eat anywhere that wasn’t the dining table. Tim must have practised puppy dog eyes. 

They reach the room and Jason immediately pushes Tim off the couch. Draping his lanky frame over the cushions, he grins down at his brother. Tim scowls at him. Jason nonchalantly toes his shoes off and lets them drop over the armrest’s side. Tim opens his mouth, undoubtedly about to start a fight when Bruce cuts in. 

“Tim.”

His son whips his face to him, an accusatory finger pointed at his older, unrepentant brother. Bruce smoothly makes his way to the couch, lifts Jason’s legs, plops down to slouch into the soft material and lets his legs fall over his lap. 

Tim’s jaw drops open. “Did you see—”

“Some trusted sources have informed me that you haven’t completed your work yet.”

“I have! Almost. I just need to cite my sources and shit—”

“Language.”

“It’s almost done. Did you not just see what he did?”

“I did and I think you deserve it after last week’s prank.”

“.... In my defence, that was funny. To me,” comes the petulant reply. 

“So was this. To me,” Bruce throws back, just as unapologetic. 

Jason’s shit-eating grin only widens as Tim accepts defeat and curls up at Bruce’s feet, letting his head rest against his thigh distractedly. He immediately recoils and glares at Jason. 

“You have smelly feet.”

Jason’s response is stretching his leg a bit further to bring his toes closer to Tim’s face. The younger boy gets up in annoyance and throws himself on the beanbag near the couch. “Keep…. those things away from me. Ugh.” 

Talia arrives with Cass and Jason instantly retracts his legs from his lap and straightens up to make space for them. Talia sits beside him while Cass occupies the other beanbag. 

This close, Bruce can see the way his eyes almost crinkle shut when he dimples at Talia. They talk in soft tones, discussing the colour of tablecloths and balloons and “oh, there has to be blue”. 

The movie starts and they quieten. Chatter picks up again because “that’s absolute nonsense!” and “shut up, bro, it’s not that deep”. Jason says something crass in return and Talia lets out a startled, full-bellied laugh before she swats his head and tells him to behave. 

He gets to have this. 

Time gets blurry at the edges like a long-forgotten song. At some undetermined time the movie is paused so everyone can carry plates full of food to the room and drag Alfred to watch the movie with them. Some undetermined time later Cass falls asleep and Tim gets up to fetch one of the blankets thrown over a chair pushed into the corner. He doesn’t take his eyes off the movie for a second, it’s a talent. Bruce motions for him to bring another along with him, noticing Jason's half-lidded eyes. 

Sure enough, his blinks get slower and slower. He snuggles into his side and even as he’s a little taller, if thinner, he makes it work somehow. Bruce rests an arm around him and watches his eyes droop shut. Summer has made his freckles reappear.  

Talia smiles when she catches his eyes over their son’s head. She covers him in the blanket Tim had gotten for them and refocuses on the movie. 

Jason’s warm breath ghosts over his clavicle, his curls brushing against his neck. He smells like the citrus shampoo Dick had recommended to them all. Bruce rubs his back soothingly, feeling his lips curve up with something bubbly in his chest.

The movie ends. Everyone on the screen is tearful but happy. 

Tim is sleepy too and Talia gently rouses Cass to take them both to their bedrooms. 

“Hey, Jay,” he whispers against his temple. “Hey, wake up.”

Jason doesn’t move.

“Jay? Wake up, buddy. Movie’s over.”

Jason doesn’t wake up.

There’s blood on his temple. Bruce pulls back. 

He wasn’t mistaken. There is actually blood sliding down to the knob of his jaw. 

He cups his face and shakes him. 

“Jay? Jason! Jason?” another hard shake. “Jason, please.” 

He stretches the soft skin under his eye to check his eyes, not knowing what to do. It’s not the perfect blue of a June sky. It’s glassy. 

He stands up to pick him up and notices, for the first time, that it’s not a blanket. It’s a cape, it’s a shroud. 

—

17th August. 4:17 am. 

Bruce palms are clammy. He picks his head up from the messy desk. The computer screen has gone blank. His bed remains undisturbed. 

There’s not even the ticking of a clock to keep him company, just the subtle white noise of the air conditioning unit. Heartbeat in his ears, breathe out of his lungs, he rises shakily. 

In the bathroom, he picks up the citrusy shampoo and puts it in the dustbin. He smashes his fist against the shower’s glass cubicle and kneels down with a bloody hand. 

[the entire thing is inspired by batman #790 (1937) also note that this is bruce's version of a perfect world, not mine. dick has commitment issues in my head & brutalia is best left at something melancholic & haunting. that's about it? happy birthday, jason! wish i had something about you but instead you ended up being a ghost for your dad here.... maybe i'll have something better cooked up next year? <3]

[eatingfireflies]

2.2 is coming and if I don't write this now, how can I get jossed later?

This is the moment when I started to wonder if their 2.0 conversation was a role play.

Like, we know this issue is a sore point for Ratio. The fact that this guy he called a loud peacock in 2.0 made a joke about his failure to get into the Genius Society and all he said was 'I was being sarcastic'?? Babe, is something wrong? You barely touched your sharp and witty comeback.

(Btw I checked both Cn and Jp, he says 'It was just a joke.')

And I don't want to bring up the voice acting because the way voices sound is subjective and what I hear might not be what you hear, but the Double Indemnity scenes with Ratio are probably the most relaxed we ever see Aventurine ever. (I'm talking about the Cn version, but I played in Jp audio and I could hear it there too.) He's playful and his voice is higher pitched, so different from what we've seen of him so far.

It sounds like Ratio and Aventurine have known each other longer than they want us to believe in their 2.0 convo.

I mean, the implication here is Ratio did some research on Aventurine's background recently and that's how he found out about Aventurine's past. So we make the assumption that they haven't been working together for long.

Look, they even did a Penacony remix of their Final Victor conversation

But honestly, you'd think Ratio would have figured out if he trusted Aventurine or not at this point, considering he came back for more after Final Victor (lmao??)

Also, we know Aventurine had been planning for Penacony since his call to Topaz, where he asked for her help. It's hard to believe that he went through all the trouble of asking two different Stonehearts to lend him their cornerstones and then went to Penacony and the Dreamscape with Ratio, whom he barely knows. That's too much gambling, Aventurine!

We know the Family won't let anyone from the IPC to enter the Dreamscape and Aventurine only gets a pass because of the Watchmaker's invite

But Himeko is wrong here: Aventurine didn't go inside the Dreamscape alone and he does have someone backing him up. It just happened that almost no one else saw Ratio in Penacony and the one scene where we did see him talking to Aventurine was 2.0, where he got angry and left Aventurine babbling to himself.

But now that we're here, what did Ratio do in Penacony aside from bicker and betray?

His initial job is to gather intel, afaik. Aventurine tells him to go look into things in 2.0 before he left. And he does give Aventurine updates in 2.1 (Aventurine finds out about Firefly from Ratio) so good for you, professor!

Ratio is Aventurine's connection to his colleagues outside. Once Aventurine's plans enter the Dead phase, Ratio is the only one left to tell Topaz and Jade if the plan had been a success or not. (Aventurine also makes a joke about the Genius from the Council of the Mundanites offering to be his undertaker. In the Jp version, he says 'So the Genius from the Council of the Mundanites wants to claim my corpse? What an honour.' So there's also that... Uh. Idk how dead dead Aventurine really is, but at least we know someone's looking after his body while he's gone lmao??)

But also he's Aventurine's bait to Sunday, the (fake) weak link in Aventurine's plans that Sunday thought he could exploit.

And the 3rd one is a bit complicated, because it is a gamble. Remember Aventurine's E1? Prisoner's Dilemma? Yeah, it's kinda like that. I talked about it before, but let's copy paste it here for easier reading (and because this post totally needs to be a wall of text)

Let's zoom out a bit again and remember that Aventurine was sent to Penacony because Diamond thinks this whole affair could still have a peaceful resolution. Meaning: Aventurine is the kind option. The IPC could have sent Opal instead, but it sounds like that means there would be a body count.

And I think that's why Ratio is here and why he agreed to cooperate. Because if Aventurine's plan works out, only Aventurine's life will ever be in real danger. (And we know from Ratio's note that he also took steps to increase the chances of Aventurine coming back.)

Ratio being there is important to the plan because

Him being from the Intelligentsia Guild removes some of the heat from the Family. If Ratio is coming in as a plus one, the IPC (in this case, I'm assuming it's Aventurine because he's the guy in charge of the operation) chose the best person for the job. It makes the Family happier knowing there are not two IPC envoys walking around the Dreamscape and Aventurine has a buddy who can move around more freely than another IPC employee could

But because Ratio is an outsider, he's also the weak link in Aventurine's plans. Another IPC employee will probably not betray Aventurine, but the Guild has no particular horse in this race. We were also led to believe from their 2.0 conversation that Ratio doesn't like Aventurine very much. This is what I meant when I said Ratio is a bait: Aventurine was pretty much dangling him in front of Sunday, making Sunday think he could use Ratio to ruin Aventurine's plans. The important thing of course is the trust the two of them have for each other (yay, Prisoner's Dilemma). Ratio could ruin Aventurine's plan if he wants to (very bad for all involved because I'm guessing Opal is the next step) and Aventurine could fail (not as bad for everyone involved after 2.1 because the IPC has already won regardless. There's still a Phase 2 in Aventurine's plan and Ratio seems to want him back after that, so I guess he'd consider it a failure if Aventurine doesn't return?), but trusting each other means they win.

Tl;dr Ratio's presence in Penacony is a bit of a gamble on Aventurine's part but it worked well for him so far. Ratio is here to make sure everyone stays alive. (And maybe the Phase Flame? I honestly don't know if the Annihilation Gang will ever come back again, but for now I'm going with the obvious and assuming Ratio is here because he thinks Aventurine's plan will work and work with the least amount of pain for everyone.)

Thank you for getting this far. Why do we think they deserve Oscars?

Aside from the movie references (we'll get to that), we have 3 different instances where Aventurine mentions acting / the 'script'.

The most direct is the conversation with future!Aventurine in the garden maze: future!Aventurine praises Ratio's acting while Aventurine says 'Or he might not be acting at all' (the inability of these two to admit they are friends, but more importantly they don't think the other person thinks highly of them, is2g).

The next one is hidden in the mission description

And the other one got lost in translation. This was translated to 'You catch on quickly' in En. In Jp he says something like 'You have a good sense for drama, professor' (Sorry Idk what this is in the og Cn)

Finally, Double Indemnity. I haven't seen the movie, but it seems to be about an insurance salesman who gets seduced by a hot wife femme fatale into helping her get rid of her husband so she could claim his insurance. Double Indemnity refers to this clause where the insurance gets doubled if the person suddenly dies of an accident.

I've thought about this so hard, let me tell you. What could this possibly have to do with Aventurine and the mission? (For example, 'Hot wife Sunday seduces Ratio the insurance salesman into helping him get rid of Aventurine' etc.) And I honestly still don't know but one detail does help my theory so I'm pulling it out:

The relationship between the insurance salesman and the hot wife femme fatale was known only to the two of them. To the insurance claims adjuster, who was investigating the case and trying to prove the husband's death wasn't an accident, those two are unrelated people who might have seen each other once or twice. The claims adjuster suspected the wife, but had no idea of the insurance salesman's involvement. The truth is, they actually knew each other a full year before the plan was set in motion. Hey, doesn't it actually fit nicely now?

(Spellbound otoh, I still don't know. I have a Sunday and Gallagher reading of it, but Hvy keeps telling me no and making it gay instead so Idk.)

[mishy-mashy]

Kudo is actually such a kind, soft-hearted guy that had to toughen up because he cared too much

He looked at AFO's rule, and even though he was weak, he had that glint in his eye that has been referred to as the "will of a hero" to oppose him. A hopeful glint shared with Midoriya, Bakugo, and Hawks

He even parallels Hawks when they talk about that particular look in their eye

From a glimmer in the eye, to which eye is shown, how much of the face, a similar angle of the face, and placement of text questioning the existence of that light,

He stormed to kill Yoichi with Bruce, but couldn't, once he saw the state Yoichi was in. Even knowing he was the enemy, he still reached out his hand and never let go, even when they were running

When Yoichi died, even though they'd only been together for two months, Kudo still cried and froze up.

This is a reaction from a man who repeatedly used lives as a stepping stone for his own goal.

Kudo said himself, that victory was life, and defeat was death. He had killed and seen his friends killed over and over, but still cries when it happens again. And to someone he only knew for two months, at that.

Kudo gathered allies under his cause, and they were loyal enough to die for him. Bruce cries (still smiling tho) facing AFO, tried protecting Kudo when he froze up at Yoichi's death, and we see all Kudo's comrades dead in the end. Maybe Bruce was suicidal when he went to face AFO, knowing he'd die, but most of his comrades (and Kudo) were already gone. Their cause was snuffed out, but the will persisted.

Kudo is a bit like Aizawa.

A bit crass and blunt, doesn't like beating around the bush, but he can clearly see what kind of person you are. He's not openly kind, but you know he cares so much, but has also lost too much once. He's seen his friend(s) die, and shouldn't it have been him in that spot? Shouldn't he have died instead, but was forced to continue living for that dead person's sake?

His speech about why we call Abilities "Quirks", recognizing people's intent over raw power is the real power. (Ch 369)

He's blunt and goes straight to the results rather than beat around the bush, but it doesn't mean his heart is frozen and he doesn't care about you. (Ch 408)

He cares so much, and that's why he has to do so much. (His whole Resistance thing, figuring out how Yoichi's Factor works to make sure Yoichi and his will can live on in some way)

He recognizes that Midoriya isn't driven by duty, but that he genuinely adores Quirks too much. (Ch 414) He could look at Midoriya, read that immediately, and even though he looked through his memories, Midoriya's character was his takeaway. Not that Midoriya is an idiot for letting himself be stepped on, or that this kid was bullied, but that Midoriya could see the goodness in others.

Like how Aizawa saw that Midoriya was relying on the reason [It can't be helped] whenever OFA broke his bones and told him he can't always break himself just because he could be fixed (Midoriya's recklessness that showed itself on the first day of school). He called out something that was an underlying, innate belief to Midoriya, that was so normal to the teen, and no one else had brought up as wrong to him.

The first thing they perceive is a person's character.

When Aizawa tied up Midoriya on the first day of school, he wasn't telling him off over his Quirk destroying him being a PR thing or too gruesome for the public. It was out of the fact that his Quirk shouldn't destroy him, because it's dangerous for Midoriya.

Aizawa came off antagonistic, but he was looking out for Midoriya. He didn't want him to keep breaking his whole arm, he didn't want him to get stuck in the mindset that he had to get hurt to use his Quirk, he was looking out for his wellbeing from the start. A kid he didn't know personally until that day.

Kudo did a similar thing. He turned his back, and refused to help, because they were putting their hopes in a delusional boy who would go too far. When the vestiges realized their gathered Abilities and Quirks were letting Midoriya have the freedom to do as he wished, Kudo already knew, only saying "His path is the right one". He could relate to having to run full-sprint to see your goal realized, even if everything opposed him, but didn't want Midoriya to go through that same path alone.

If he were alone, he'd be like Nagant. He had to have comrades to be like Kudo, able to continue and stand for their beliefs, but having comrades to fall back on, or pull him back when it's too much. That's why he follows up in that moment with, "But, if there's something Midoriya does need..."

Kudo and Aizawa could see themselves or their comrades in others, and knew how to approach those character flaws that were normalized to others and said person.

Kudo could see others for who they were, and I think it's this, and his caring nature, that he gathered so many allies with him. He knew when to be blunt, when to show kindness, that the truth hurts but needs to be seen, was actually very logical and witty, and when to step aside and let people do their thing, even if it wasn't the best move (like saving All Might). Because that was what was best for that person.

It's not like people would join someone so wholeheartedly without conviction and being left unseen by that person. So many people were willing to die with and for Kudo, and Bruce believes in him so much.

When All Might's vestige was fading and becoming more solid, Kudo had to look away. They knew it meant All Might was dying in the real world.

Kudo was telling Midoriya not to intervene with Gearshift there. But once he saw All Might genuinely dying out, he couldn't look at him, and kept quiet. He stopped hanging onto battlefield logic of necessity, shut up, let Midoriya do his thing, and it saved All Might. It saved Midoriya from seeing his idol die in front of him, and Kudo didn't have to see another ally die beside him.

The chapter is literally called [We Love You All Might!!]. Even if it's just meant to focus in Bakugo and Midoriya, and only has 2 exclamation marks, it can't discount the world is watching. The vestiges care about All Might too.

When the vestiges come up with the plan to forcibly transfer themselves to deal damage, Kudo volunteers himself as the test dummy. Sure, he backs it with a lot of reason too, but he didn't want anyone else to go first as a test drive

He, with a Gearshift Ability that resembled a manual car, was the test drive. Ha ha pun- *gets shot*

En tried going first. Kudo rejected him, saying he would go first.

"Part ways with Gearshift [me], and you'll be free of the crippling recoil too."

Too. TOO.

KUDO JUST WANTED TO GO AND BE DESTROYED FIRST. HE PUT THE FREEDOM OF RECOIL DOWN AS AN EXTRA BONUS SO THEY'D AGREE WITH HIS CHOICE.

I'd cut the image so it looks better, and I can use Bruce's words elsewhere, but this is an image limit, so,

- Kudo refused to let anyone else go first. This was before giving reasons to convince them he should leave first

- En gives reason to why it can't be Kudo. Kudo just says, "Listen." and reminds them of now.

- Look at Kudo's face when he says that. The guy knows what he's doing when he cuts off En, and would probably be a horrible liar. He might as well be pulling this out of his ass.

He's said "The world will end" "You have to or else" "Five minutes" "You're going to die" a few times in this fight already. DUDE STOPPP

(Terrible liar and a guy who purposely eggs you to torment? What a great friend he would be [yknow, when u make ur friends freak out by being ominous or reminding them of stuff. Like Toast to Lilypichu in a game of Observation Duty])

- "Too."

- Bruce's trust in him, but knowing when to pull Kudo back from going too far

Also, when he's transferred, he smiles to Midoriya. He knows he's about to die again, but the last thing he does for Midoriya is

1) Take away the recoil of his existence as a Factor on the boy

2) Reassure him that it's okay, so it doesn't weigh on his conscience

Even if only in thought, STILL!

KUDO LOOKED SO PROUD OF MIDORIYA!

I bet Kudo is suuuch a sentimental fool

> [Be me and watch your new friend die]

> [I have Yoichi's Factor]

> [It's like I carry his will now]

> [Have a glint of opposition in my eye that drives the Demon Lord and my comrades (Bruce) crazy]

> [Hey Bruce, let's figure out how it transfers]

> [Bruce's common sense VS my rabid ideas]

> [I win]

> [Bruce was unwilling the whole time and still ends up with the Factor]

> [The Factor is named One For All, after something in Yoichi's favorite comic book series]

> [We pass it on to the future to carry forward]

> [Even as everyone else and me dies, I make sure Yoichi and his will are safe from his Demon Lord brother that locked him up]

> [Decades later, my sweet vaulted friend reminds me of when we met]

> [I turn around and give my whole-hearted support to believe in some 15-year old boy because Yoichi believes in him too]

SEN - TIM - ENT - AL!

When Shinomori was stolen by AFO, Shinomori pushed everyone away before they could really notice the invader. Kudo called out for him.

Everyone is in shock, but I don't think it's a mistake that the text bubble calling out for Shinomori is pointing from Kudo.

All For One made it through and is ready to steal them, but the first thing Kudo did was call out for the one at the very front.

[On the post I made that mentions Shinomori pushing everyone away] What if Kudo wasn't pushed away? What if this was him at the front, realizing the danger and turning around, but being unable to do anything for Shinomori when he saw?

Like Bruce, Kudo communicates. He doesn't expect you to just follow or understand him. He actually lays it out and makes sure you keep up.

He explains

- the transfer of vestiges, and why he should go first

- his Quirk

- why Quirks are Quirks

- reports to Midoriya what's happening and what's next

- to Yoichi why they couldn't trust in a delusional boy. In a way that wasn't Bruce's roundabout "we lived in a terrible era and a leader gathered us"

When En panics, he barks at En to keep up. By barking at him, rather than any other way he could've used his tone, it shuts up En in his frantic babbling. Kudo also lets Vestige Might put in his thoughts to understand better, and uses it.

Eye reflection. Kudo can really see people for who they are, and understands others, and himself.

I can't repeat the pics cuz image limit, but look at previous panels here. For example, Kudo saying Yoichi's will lives in him, and when AFO reflected in his eyes

It's something I learned from Re:Zero. When a person in reflected in one's eye, something something that person can see the true core of you, of what you really are underneath everything. The eyes are the window and mirror [glass] of the soul. I finally see the true you.

AFO never reflected anyone.

But Kudo reflected AFO when the man accidentally killed Yoichi. He saw that AFO wasn't seeing anything, so later, Kudo smiled and mocked AFO at his own death.

"Yoichi?"

"He's gone."

"You killed him, Demon Lord."

And AFO hated that reminder.

Kudo was reminding him of what the truth was. Kudo saw it himself, and AFO blocked it out from the get-go. Kudo already knew what AFO was, what he was seeing, what he was doing to himself by blaming Kudo instead of himself.

And then, Kudo's eyes reflected his own hand when he realized Yoichi's Factor was in him.

Kudo clearly saw himself, and in himself, Yoichi. Nothing distorted it. It really was a clear mirror.

He really perceived Yoichi's will was living on, and was right. Otherwise, his eyes wouldn't have shown it.

Kudo was right about AFO. It's even implied back when he and Bruce had their backs turned; Kudo knew what AFO's real goal was. That was back when AFO preached unity and division under him.

Kudo could always see right through AFO. He really understood people from the start. And he never tried making up truths to justify what he was seeing, facing it head-on.

Kudo's lying about the world being black and white.

Kudo and Bruce saw the world as black and white. This was mentioned in the void.

Kudo also says, "Victory meant life. Defeat meant death."

But it's the Resistance. It's when Japan and the world was at their lowest. The world wasn't black and white; there's lots of gray.

Kudo and Bruce would've seen this. Kudo even admits that there's gray, just not directly.

Kudo says Yoichi knows, how he killed and trampled so many lives, to get back at AFO. He knows it wasn't right, or an amazing choice. Later, he says that when your back is against the wall, you have to make callous judgements. These hint at gray moments.

Kudo and Bruce have faced and been in the gray. But it's too hard to make the right choices, and there are times there is no right answer.

Historically, soldiers would convince themselves the enemy were monsters. They wouldn't be able to fight and kill them otherwise. They wouldn't be able to live with themselves without believing in this so badly.

Kudo and Bruce had to have been the same way. They were Meta Humans [Monsters] in a time they were viewed as diseased humans. The monsters were real. And they had a Demon Lord. Kudo and Bruce literally dressed up as soldiers.

Even if they were monsters to society, being Meta, Kudo and Bruce were still human. They knew this. The ones who tried believing in only black and white were inhabitants of the gray itself.

But they have to protect themselves. Kudo is so adamant that the world is only black and white, because he can't stand the gray. What it makes him do, what it means, that he's too weak to do anything.

Yoichi is an example of that gray area. The mortal enemy's younger brother, was actually locked up and sickly. He's just a comic book nerd. And it humanized the other side Kudo opposed so vehemently.

Kudo says victory is life and defeat is death. And Yoichi asked why he reached out to him then. He reminded Kudo of that gray area, and Kudo opened up.

Kudo might avoid the gray area because it's a matter of the heart and a moral dilemma, but it's what makes him human. When there's no right answer in the battlefield, he decides on his feelings instead.

He wishes the world was black and white, because it'd be so easy. But it's not.

Yoichi reminded him of how entering that gray area led to OFA ("when you reached out your hand to me"), and it had been the best choice in the end. The gray area is real, and Kudo's left a bare man with only his emotions when he's there.

Kudo is actually really kind and understanding. He's too soft for his own good. Thanks if you made it this far, I hope it makes sense (tag and image limit)

[jennilah]

a very dumb deep dive

gather round, i saw a few people say they want to crawl into the head of someone who had trouble telling Hoffman and Strahm apart upon first viewing. I offer mine for the picking because i think ive identified, at least in MY personal experience, the various elements that came together that formed the ultimate confusion

if this is not relatable nor informative, i hope it is at least a little silly. this is all in good fun and obviously the difference between them is clear as day to me now

this will be longer than it should be.

PRECURSOR POINT NUMBER ONE...

I do not remember character names. Not until they are recurring, or I've rewatched a film a few times. Sometimes it will take me an entire 12-21 episode season length for me to know characters by name in a show. I've seen some Saw films more than 6 times now and I still don't know everyone in the traps 🤷‍♀️

PRECURSOR POINT NUMBER TWO..

at the time of watching Saw IV for the first time, the madness has not yet set in for Hoffman and Strahm for me. In fact, I didn't like either of them. I wasn't looking at them with my deranged eyes yet.

Without my crazy brain activated, sometimes I'll get face blindness between people who have similar enough hair and stuff. I'll use clothes as an identifier if I can

Meaning, I didn't notice anything like face details, mannerisms, body shapes- to me, it was one dark haired white guy in a suit and another dark haired white guy in a suit who both worked in law enforcement.

uh oh

PRECURSOR POINT NUMBER THREE..

in a very elaborate plot like this with many interwoven stories being told, especially with police procedure, has a lot of details that get lost on me upon first watch because I simply easily misunderstand what is happening. I zone out on stuff like legal talk because I don't know that world at all, and the more general plot information to absorb, the more I forget.

"But [character] SAYS..!" oh, I'm aware! If you pay attention and can remember character names, everything is pretty clear in this movie!

so between all three points, you see where I'm starting to go with this.

THAT BRINGS US TO..

Saw IV. let me describe to you what I believe my thought process was to the best of my memory.

This guy shows up. as far as I knew, this was the first time I've met this character. I forgot he was in Saw III because he was only in it for a second and I definitely don't remember him among the sea of other characters.

ok. sure. new detective because the others are dead. got it 👌

next time we see him is a few minutes later, now in this lighting. I don't have his features memorized yet. I'm pretty sure I put it together that it was the same guy as before, and I see he's in a new outfit.

keep in mind he is not at all referred to with a NAME yet, until Perez shows up and introduces all three of them at the same time

here comes "Strahm," as he was quickly introduced in practically the same breath, from the FBI. and he looks like this.

I mentally go "ok FBI guy in the suit" because my occasional bout of face blindness is activating rn. The problems are on the horizon for me

I survived that scene, but the scene right after? I'm doomed.

Major Confusion #1:

this treacherous interrogation footage, ft Hoffman's ass and slutty, slutty suspenders (but I did NOT give him even a second glance here yet. genuinely.)

I'm 100% sure I just didn't know who I was looking at in this footage at all just because of the outfit change

and then the boys are back in town. and they're BOTH WEARING THIS...

This was mean. this was fucked. I was doomed. My brain is already churning trying to keep up with what the footage was, now there's two dark haired white men in dark suits. Who was who again? I think the guy who just turned off the TV was the new detective. The guy who was talking to the Swat guy before. Yeah....

Major Confusion #2:

Next time we see them, Strahm and Perez are watching the interrogation footage. They quickly start talking Jigsaw stuff and my mind is already working overtime figuring out what information is and isn't important to hold on to.

Hoffman says hello for like 1 minute and then fucks off.

My brain is going "ok.. that footage was an old interrogation... mhm..."

this is the information my brain has decided to retain from that scene for later.

Major Confusion #3

this dark haired white guy in a suit got kidnapped idfk. the shots are all very short and he's enshrouded in shadow or SUPER close-up, and I don't know to recognize him by his lips yet. clearly Im more focused on his hair color and suit, so this could be fuckin anyone

Perez said something about officers being in danger earlier, I think I thought maybe it was irony and the cocky FBI guy was the one who got kidnapped instead? i dont know.

then after the first test of Rigg's game, you see Perez and Strahm again for a SECOND. I def didn't pay them much attention. My mind is elsewhere- the insanity of the previous scene

Major Confusion #4:

then FINALLY... we see Hoffman again in the slut chair

and what have we learned about me so far?

let me sum up my logic for you

Now, if only I was certain on their names..

I'm not going to go over every single scene, but I guarantee you, the confusion was fully set in by this point. That detective from the beginning either really just went home, or he was working with Perez. Or maybe it's the FBI guy and someone else is in the chair? No idea.

My brain retained that one slightly misguided bit of information from the interrogation footage and thought This Guy, Whoever This Guy Is, was interrogating Jill a second time. (Wrong.)

there was no memory of the guy's big ass in that footage or anything. that was also way the fuck in the intro and there was a LOT more that happened between then and now in the movie to remember now. and people really don't say each other's names that often.

Yeah there's also that flashback footage showing The Guy In the Chair and Rigg back in the day, but I was too far gone. That was simply the story of how That Guy and Art Blanc knew each other.

and boy does Chair Guy not do much for the rest of the movie, so there was not much more info about his identity that I could try to work out. Maybe he was just some new random guy meant to die in someone else's game because he is kind of a dirty cop?

Pretty sure I was resigned to the fact that I was watching completely utterly confused by the third act.

then fucking JEFF DENLON shows up and i remember either mentally or physically throwing my hands up like "ok now i REALLY dont know whats going on"

I remember I was still excited by the thrill of it, just completely lost as to who was who and what the fuck was going on.

as Eric Matthews was yelling "WHO'S COMING THROUGH THAT DOOR?" i remember going "I DONT KNOW, MAN!!!!!!"

The Grand Clear-up:

THE REVEAL.

Through the power of the Hello Zepp reveal montage, I finally understood "OHHHH YOU'RE THE DETECTIVE FROM THE BEGINNING!!!"

i had other confusions that i eventually worked out, but I went into Saw V much more clear on who was who. There was Hoffman the evil detective, and Strahm the jerk FBI guy (who I then softened up to throughout V, no longer thinking he was a jerk)

and, if I couldn't physically tell who was on screen because I still struggled a little bit with that... I looked for Strahm's bandage :)

and thats my story lmao...

anyway finding out just how many other people mixed them up or confused them or couldn't tell them apart makes me feel so validated thank u. i understand u

[fanaticsnail]

Left Behind - Snails Rambling Fic Thoughts

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @sordidmusings @writingmysanity

Notes: I think I like writing fanfic and rambling about this so much because I really got into playing mermaids, fae and princesses as a child 💀.

Also, considering the last thoughts I had on this concept was on Kid's side, I wanted to know how it would look from the other perspective.

Not a fic, just purely a concept - but a long one.

Okay, okay, okay.

But imagine being a Kid-Pirate who was left behind by your captain after he declared he was going to take on Red-Haired Shanks. He left you behind, specifically, because you were the only one who opposed him.

“That is the stupidest fucking idea you've ever had,” you'd voice your reprimand alongside your concern, “He is one of the emporers. He has a crew far stronger than we are. He has an Armada he could call for backup. His Haki is-.”

And after you've aired your opposition, Eustass Kid brushes them aside; convincing you that he'd given up on the idea. He sends you away to gather inventory, casting off and weighing anchor the minute you're out of sight.

And then the chaos, the havok, the injury, the mayhem.

Suddenly your captain is missing an arm, his skin is scorched and mutilated. There's crewmen missing, there's so much blood.

After you regroup with your troop, you rush to your captain and embrace him as he falls to his knees. He whispers between sobs, clutching at your shirt with his remaining fist.

“You were right,” he attempts to embrace you completely, his phantom limb joining behind your back as he attempts to join his wrists together, “You were right. I should have listened. I should have never left you behind.”

He expects your scolding, he expects your wrath, he expects, awaits and anticipates the screams of fury erupting from your lungs.

In it's stead, all you do is lower your tone and elevate his face with your two hands caressing his scarred skin. His cheeks were streaked with tears, his eyes full of glossy sorrow. You’d glare down at him through half-hooded lashes, your lip curling up as your silent rage begins in a low whisper.

“I will destroy them,” you'd confess in a tone darker than the dead of night, “They will bend until they break, their blood will ignite beneath the flames of my wrath.”

Eustass Kid would never see a rage akin to this for as long as he lives. A rage that fuelled your retribution enough to have you break away from your crew and live in solitude while you trained and readied your body to weaponize your grief .

He had left you behind, after all. Why should you continue to claim him as captain as he so easily was able to cast you aside? Although now he is no longer captain to you, he will always be mentioned in the same breath as ‘friend,' or even 'lover.'

Names, faces and titles would be committed to memory. Your persona as an assassin to invoke your revenge would have you take new names and titles of your own. You would practice by taking out some lesser captain's and their crews, claiming bounties and training against Haki-users to develop one of your own.

When you finally feel ready enough to begin picking off members of the Red-Hair pirates, Shanks immediately would sense a game is afoot. He would start off by having his sharp-shooter constantly be on guard and ready for you. That would be fine, you'd trained your body to work tirelessly. Had Yasopp? The closure of his eyes and the slow rise and fall of his chest would state otherwise.

Although it would be far easier to take out their Doctor or their Chef first, your eyes would immediately draw their focus to the first mate. What is a pinky toe to the whole body of a crew? Why should you devote your time to such digits, when you had a window to take out Shanks’ right hand first?

As you'd disguise yourself beneath the shroud of Beckman's shadow, your shock would be adamant when a slow chuckle rattled in his smoke-riddled lungs. As you’d elevated your dagger, readying your blade to strike him in the back, he'd speak up.

“So this is the one that was left behind?” he'd sigh drawing up the filter end of his cigarette, placing it in his lips, “The Kid-Pirate that stood up to their Captain. Left behind for showcasing nothing but loyalty.”

You'd halt your plunge, feeling Beckman’s Haki begin to ignite and compel your body to bend to his will. You'd shake it off, readying yourself to dive forward and take out the larger man once again.

“You took his arm,” your dark, venomous confession would ignite a small amount of fear in the base of his spine, “You mutilated my crew.”

“Aye, that I did,” Beckman would confess, a man of honor amongst invoking such violence, “But you were left behind. Are they really your crew if they left you so easily?”

“They loved me,” your reflection would cause your heart to flutter, and lip to quiver.

“Or did they think you too weak to carry out the task?” his ignition of the flint-lock lighter would break you from your trance, eyes narrowed and glaring at him as he would turn to meet you.

“I don't think you're weak,” Beckman’s confession would have you stumble more, not anticipating praise as your blade now met against his wide chest.

“And why should I care what you think?” you'd spit at him, drawing your body closer as the threat of your blade made its steel kiss the pectoral above his heart, “You're the enemy. You hurt him, my crew, and you deserve death.”

“That may be true,” he'd confess, leaning against your blade to test the resolve of your threat, “But you deserve so much more than abandonment in response to your loyalty.”

“You deserve a crew that would have you'd back,” he'd continue, “A crew that would seek to train you up, uplift you, and never forsake you.”

“I suppose you mean ‘your crew,’ Beckman?” you'd snarl, your resolve beginning to crack and scatter, “I would rather die.”

“Join us. Learn from us, then leave us,” he'd suggest, “Return to your former captain," he'd exhale a long breath of smoke away from your face, "See if they're worthy of having you as their family, or if you'd rather stay with a new, more respectful, one."

Tldr: Eustass Kid abandoned you, returning only when he was defeated and asking for your forgiveness. You didn't grant him forgiveness, but offered him retribution instead. Training for 3 long years, you had finally readied yourself to destroy the red-hair pirates. As you were about to invoke it, you were offered a place amongst the crew you swore you'd defeat. They want to train you to be better than them, a wildcard in a world of piracy.

[casteliacityramen]

[Previous] [PART 2 OF 2]

“I flew around a bit." 

"I overheard some talks about an open gala in Sinnoh and I decided to attend it. I’ll tell you the whole story about what happened later, but...

... Even when I was trying to relax, I couldn't feel comfortable with myself. Like… like wearing clothes that didn’t fit. The longer the night went on, nothing felt right. And I’m not just talking about the disguise.”

“You felt like a caricature of who you used to be.”

“Yeah. I knew I was going to feel awful when the Continental War was done and over with. I knew we were going to be reprimanded, or worse, but…” Rio frowns deeply, trying to gather her tangled thoughts together.

“I didn't think it'd mess me up as bad as this. I didn’t recognize who I was by the end of the night. I’m worried there’s no going back to who I used to be. I miss the version of myself who could go to a gala and not be miserable in the corner. It feels like that part of me died--that optimistic part of me."

“Do you get what I’m talking about?”

Rio waits with bated breath, only for Ray to curtly answer:

"Yes. And no?"

Rio feels her temper quickly flare up as she lets out a frustrated huff, "Whaddya mean by that?"

Ray raises his palms towards her, slowly.

"It's not that I don't understand what you're saying,” Ray turns to her and gives her a faint smile, "I like to think my experiences are changing me for the better. That’s where you and I differ."

“What, that you’re becoming less of who you used to be and more of… whatever this is?”

"A sub-par noodle penchant?" Ray laughed, throwing Rio's words right back at her from earlier that day.

"You know what I mean, Ray," Rio feels her face get hot. "It's as if..."

"... It's as if you're undoing yourself to make up for what you've done," Rio whispers out loud. The sudden conclusion steals her breath. "Ray, you're not doing all this to punish yourself, are you?"

"..."

"Please say no.”

"It may have started out that way, but that's not the case now."

“Ray…” Rio whispered in disbelief, out loud. 

“You may see this as me continuing a dead man’s legacy. But it’s more than that. This place was a gifted to me and came with a wish. I intend to honor that gesture.

Even though we can’t do any of our usual duties, that’s no excuse to stop acting like a shepherd.”

“If your version of helping the commonwealth is to further seat yourself into guilt, I can’t let you follow through with this.”

“You’re still not getting it, It’s not like that."

"Are you sure about that? Because it's all starting to sound like you're doing this as some sort of messed up way of repenting for your sins."

"I'm telling you, it's not like that."

“Ray, there's a moment when memorialization for someone else turns into hurting yourself." 

"Like how you visited your own gravestone in Johto? Do you really see all of your soldiers offering gifts in your memory and call that self harm? Didn't you just say that you're grieving over someone who you used to be? Is it really that wrong? To cling to what's left!?"

"For me, it is."

"We aren't mortal, Ray. This entire conversation we're having? This argument? All of it? This is what happens when we can't move on. We drag everything with us for hundreds, maybe thousands of years whether we like it or not. This is only going to bring you pain in the long run.

I’m sorry I blew up at you earlier today, but I still stand by what I said. You have no right to continue Tai Ishikawa's legacy, even if all of this was a gift.

All of this? Hanging around Ingram's descendants, Ayumi and Jack? Working an ungodly amount of hours for a tiny bit of yen? The past guilt alone will eat you alive."

"I'm aware of what happens to me if I stew in it. I've been here five years longer than you have,” Ray mutters. “Besides, do you think that I don't know how to live with all the pain I've gathered? Do you really think that guilt alone has made me stick it out this far?”

Of course not. But... she can't simply admit that.

She’s seen him on good days, bad days, and worse days. She's seen him scraping by with little money to his name but continuing to honestly run the business with a straight back and taut shoulders.

She shakes her head, unsure of herself. After all, she's borrowing words that Ray used to tell her in the past. She's not used to being on this side of the argument, which begs the question: are they destined to swap places again somewhere, sometime down the future?

"I've seen what guilt does to you, Ray. I sure as shit know what it's doing to me," Rio shakes her head, sighing. "I don't think this is only guilt... But there's more of it than I want to see. I don't need any more reasons to lose sleep at night if I can keep you from hurting yourself."

“Then…

... Are you willing to stop me? Stop all of this if I fly past that line?"

"You're already dangerously close. Some would say that you're already past the line of hurting yourself."

"I'm not."

Rio was hoping for any sense of weakness, any stumble over words, fumble in his convictions, but Ray continued to stare at her. Rio was the first to look away.

"All of this… It helped you?”

"It has. I’d love to have you here."

"Okay."

--

The two sit in comfortable silence. As the sun fades, so too, does the tension between them. With no further words to be exchanged, the rest of the decanter behind the counter is emptied out.

Ray makes a disgusted face with every sip. One of the unfortunate effects of their blessings is the rapid processing of whatever toxins enter their body, like alcohol. If they wanted to get remotely buzzed, they had to drink the stuff that was barely safe for consumption.

Which reminds her...

“I thought I’d get you this as a peace offering.”

“What is this?”

“Got it from the gala I talked about earlier. Wine from out of this dimension. Just like the guests."

“What?”

“Later. But guess what? I actually got drunk.”

“Bullshit. Why'd you make me drink the rest of that decanter? Pour me some.”

“You’re the one with the hands, you pour us some.”

Before Ray could reach behind the counter to grab the glasses once more, they are interrupted by the sound of a squeaky stool and a pained, muffled grunt at the end of the stand.

Jack sits in the seat farthest from them, his eyes never meeting theirs. His mouth opens, but it takes a long time for him to slowly form the words. He shrinks as he whispers:

“I don’t know where else to go.”

It's about time they get ready to open back up, anyway.

[Pinned Post]

[thewritersaddictions]

(TWD) The Law: Daryl Dixon- Holy Innocence

Pairing: AU!Priest!Daryl Dixon x Virgin!Fem!Reader

Pov: Reader

Summary: You first meet Father Daryl while in confession, by the second time you go you can't help but expose your deepest secrets, and the third time Father daryl helps you with your secrets.

Warnings: Smut, AU, virgin! Reader, innocent reader, a teaching moment, dirty, rough, sex, pinv, unprotected sex, blowjob, (M Receiving) (F receiving), a little dirty talk, Masturbation, nicknames, Father Daryl kinda hot, confession, the church of god, godliness is next to cleanliness.

A/n- @ firefly-graphics for dividers, this came from watching the new AMC series The Walking Dead (Daryl Dixon) when one of the characters says that Daryl is a father Daryl from far away. (I don't really know how confession booths work, so work with me here)

WC- 13.1k

The Walking Dead Master List // The Law Master List

First Meeting 

The pure girl had nothing on you. You were refined to the bone, with white lace on the edges of everything you wore around town. Your small town knew all about you. You were the good girl who worked in the soup kitchen and helped your mother with the PTA at your younger sister’s catholic school—the sweet girl with a good life ahead of her. You were adorable. There was nothing against that, and your parents were just so happy with how your life turned out that when one of the choir boys had asked to take you out for a church together, your parents had let you walk out of the house with the boy’s hand interlocked in yours. 

That had been months ago. But every person has a different side, and that other side has made its first appearance in your relationship. You were sitting together on the loveseat in your living room. Bible study with your boyfriend while your parents were out of town. You’re so highly in tune with your reading of Leviticus that you first don’t notice the slight touch of his hand on your knee—pulling the cap off the highlight and holding it between your teeth. You read back to ensure it’s the line you want to highlight. The brush of his fingers on the tops of your thighs indeed should have pulled you from the page at hand, but it doesn’t, so he advances even further. You cap the highlighter and flip the page to make sure you haven’t caused a bleed of yellow highlight through to the next page when you feel the edge of your skirt pushed up past your thigh and a heavy hand resting on your warm skin. 

You swallow thickly before gathering your voice, “What are you doing?” You ask, still timid, “Don’t worry about it, baby.” Your boyfriend mutters softly as he inches his hand up further; he’s nearly touching where your hip dips into your stomach. “You should stop that.” You say, “We are together, aren’t we?” He asks, almost sounding offended that you don’t like how he’s touching you. “We are together, but.” You close your bible with the bookmark as a reminder of the page you’re on and wiggle your finger in your lap. The shine of the purity ring caught the light of the overhead light and the sunshine coming in through the window.  “Oh, the purity ring, I see.…” You think you’re in the safe at his words, but then he grabs your hand and slips the ring off your left ring finger. Letting it clang onto the side table next to him. “It’s off now, baby, so no harm done.” He murmurs into your heart. It sends a round of shivers down your spine. 

You just get out of his hold, pushing yourself off the loveseat and standing with your hands behind your back. “I think we are done doing bible study. You should leave. My sister and parents will return very soon.” You blubber out. You are swallowing hard when he gets up with a rage you’ve never seen behind his eyes. You lick your lips and watch as he angrily shoves his bible into his backpack and walks out the front door. He was slamming the front door behind him. You stand there with shaky hands. Slipping your purity ring back on your left ring finger. You smooth your skirt and slip on your shoes before grabbing your keys and driving down to the church. 

You need to go to confession and talk to your priest.

The drive to the church is a short one, having that you practically live right next to the church. You’ve been coming here for years. Good Word Catholic Church, your childhood church, and now the church you go to for confession. You’ve never been to the confession booth before, never really had anything to confess to god back. You were the good girl, the one that stuck to her road—towing both sides of good and evil, staying neutral through almost everything in your life. 

You parked the car, turning off the engine. Were you scared to go to confession? Was it a good idea? Had your boyfriend been proper, if you had just let him… Your thoughts are drained out when your eye catches a new priest—bounding out of the side door of the church. Shaggy brown hair that looked like he hadn’t brushed it in years, a beard growing whiter by the second. Shaking myself from the thoughts of this priest, I finally manage to get the courage to get out of the car, slamming the driver’s door as I lock the car and walk inside. 

A few pews have people sitting in them towards the back of the church. People sitting on their knees praying and hoping for the words they speak to god to become the much-needed reality to save their lives. Your small kitten heels click on the marble floor of the church confession booth. That’s what you’re eyeing for. You’ve never had to go looking for it, but you gather it would be in the front of the church, away from prying ears. 

An older woman stands at the front of the church. Lighting a few small candles, “Oh sweetie, what are you doing here?” She asks. Her voice is calm, and she’s always been like a second mother to you at the church. “I’m looking for the confession booth?” You ask her, and the shock is visible on her face. She swallows hard as if pushing back what she wants to say. Pointing toward the booth, “You’ll take the first right and then a left, alright, dearie.” You can just imagine the rumors that will spiral around your church. “Thank you so much; I just needed to talk to someone who could help me with my sister’s issues.” You say the relief is also visible on the woman’s face. 

Your sister was the trouble child; you only ever got one good kid, is what you had heard around town. She was a part of all the wrong things: boys, parties, and everything else that seemed to have a lousy mark stamped on top. “Well, I’ll pray for your sister.” You nod and thank her again as you move through the halls to the confession booth. But now that you’re standing infront of the booth, you’re starting to get worried; the hesitance is just on the nips of your heels. It told you just to get back in your car and drive home. Forget about all of it together. Forget how your boyfriend touched you, how much you liked it. How it had sent shivers down your spine, and you weren’t sure what it meant at all. You swallowed hard and opened the door to the confession booth. 

The booth is small, no bigger than a phone booth you used to see has a young child. You sit on the plush multi-colored cushion, and the door shuts behind you. You put your pocketbook down on the floor. That’s when you hear the click of the other door before you say a word to the priest on the other side. You form the cross against your chest. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, and through the mesh window, you hear a heavy sigh. “Is this your first confession?” The man asks you, and it doesn’t sound like the regular priest you see every Wednesday and Sunday. You don’t ask the question that’s now poking your thoughts, “Yes Father.” You answer the mysterious voice on the other side of the mesh. “That’s okay. Do you need a moment?” The father asks you. You shake your head and then remember the mesh between you. “No, Father.” You answer him. “So tell me why you are here.” You swallow, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned; this is my first confession.” Your voice feels like it’s echoing in the wooden booth. 

You twirl your purity ring on your finger. “I have… well, I need some advice, Father,” I tell the Father on the other side of the booth. He hums, “Tell me what worries you?” His voice is so soothing to the bone that I can’t imagine anything else. “I have been with my boyfriend for less than a year. He was so sweet and godly, but today… oh, Father.” You mutter over your words, “He touched me, and I… he took off my purity ring. I don’t know if it felt wrong and so right at the time. I think, no, I know that I’m scared. I don’t want to do anything wrong in God’s eyes. Please, I just need help with how I’m supposed to feel about these feelings?” You beg the Father. 

He hums once more, and the sound calms you. Your ring still takes swirls and twirls around your left finger with ease. You worry for a moment when the silence is too grave for you. “Don’t worry about your purity; you will stay pure as long as you resist the urges that your boyfriend is pushing onto you. But don’t forget to trust in God’s plan.” The Father says gently.  “Yes, Father.” You mutter, and before you can get up to collect yourself and your purse on the floor, the Father says something else that settles in your stomach in an oddly comfortable way. 

“Before you go, Miss, I’d like to see you in my office after Sunday’s service. Don’t worry about repenting just yet.” His words tickle your skin in a new and exciting way you’ve never felt. You nod and gather yourself. You grabbed your purse quickly before leaving the booth and the church altogether. You barely manage to get to your car before the heavy breath you didn’t realize you were holding let go. That heavy sigh made your shoulder lighten. 

His voice flits in your mind for hours after you visit the church. ‘Don’t worry about repenting just yet.’ It bounces from one side to the other. It makes you dizzy as you sit there in your kitchen with a glass of ice-cold water soothing you out of your thoughts. Your mother and father will be back with your sister in hours, so for now, you’ll push his words out of your mind. 

You shift off the small bar stool and hop into the kitchen, ready to make dinner. At least once a month, you make your family dinner to show appreciation for everything they’ve done for you. You get to work immediately. You were slipping on your apron and tearing through the fridge for fresh vegetables and a good hearty piece of protein. It doesn’t take long to get in the groove of the night. And while you wait for the last of the dinner to finish in the oven, you even manage to set the table with the fine china that your mother and father had received on their wedding. 

You even make a sweet treat for your family before they enter the driveway and park in the garage. Your mother is the brightest person you’ve ever met. Nothing dims her shining, happy light. The one that burns just like you in your chest. “Oh, sweetie, you made dinner for us.” Your mother says if she doesn’t know, it’s always on the same day. “And she even brought out the good china from the cabinet.” Your father adds. Coming around the island to place a sweet kiss on your forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He says warmly before setting his bags down at the bottom of the stairs. “It smells wonderful, baby.” Your mother mutters as she repeats her husband’s steps. 

“So, what have you been doing while we were away?” Your mother asks sweetly before cutting into her food. The four of you sit around the table, mostly enjoying each other company. Your sister is the only grouch at the table. She’s the opposite of you, and sometimes you question if she’s even your sister; her only saving grace is the baby pictures in your family album. Black, filthy, and dirty to the bone. “I went to the church today.” Your mother lights up with excitement as she asks about people there who are her friends. “No, but I did bump into the older woman who lights the candles for afternoon mass.” Your mother hums, “What were you there for, darling?” Your father asks, his eyes boring into you. 

“I went to ask the priest for some help. I just…” “For help with what?” Your parents ask in unison, worried about their first and best daughter. “I’m just getting a little worried about um…” your eyes skit over to your younger sister. She rolls her eyes. “Oh, sweetie. We know you care a lot about us, but let us deal and worry about your sister.” Your father says as his knife digs into the china, earning a slap from his wife.

--

Second Meeting

The full-length mirror on the back of your bedroom door shows your outfit off—the pink mesh flare of the sleeves and the pink bodice. The gold cross sits underneath the bow that is tied around your neck. Your hair is pulled up and away from your face, showing off the little makeup you’ve placed onto your face: light mascara and a tint of pink lipstick. You can hear your mother yelling from downstairs in the early morning. “Coffee is ready, and we are leaving in ten!” She screams from the bottom of the stairs. 

You don’t scream back like your younger sister, her voice echoing through the upstairs hall. You grab your purse and slip on your small white kitten heels. Take one last look at yourself in the mirror before going downstairs. Your mother hands out a coffee as the three of you wait for your lazy sister. You can hear your father scrambling around in the living room, “Honey, where’d my jacket go?” He yells to your mother; she sighs and rolls her eyes with a faux annoyance. “It’s on the coat rack.” There’s a pause and a few loud footsteps before you can hear your father’s voice again. “Thank you, honey.” He says as he walks into the kitchen. 

“Is she still not down from her room?” He asks us, “No, Daddy, she hasn’t come down yet.” He groans with frustration and walks out without another word. The loud, hammering footsteps as he climbs the stairs are my mother and I’s sign to gather ourselves before he can even come down. 

Your mother takes one last sip of her coffee before rinsing her cup, grabbing her purse, and getting her coat. “Come on, honey.” She says to you. You repeat her actions, sipping your last coffee drop, grabbing your purse, and slipping into your black coat. Your father and sister both have the same look on their face. Annoyed, bothered, and irritated. Your sister is rolling her eyes with frustration. 

The slam of both the driver’s and back passenger doors tells your mother that an argument was most definitely had. With that out of the way, the car is reversed, and your whole family goes down the driveway. The further you get from your house, the more the usual chatter between your mother and father begins. You aren’t listening, but the music fills the rest of the silence. 

That is, until your phone dings within your purse. The smile on your face disappears; in large text, your boyfriend’s name is on your screen. You click on the text message and unlock your phone to see the entire message. Which is shorter than you think it probably should be. “Look, I’m sorry, but you’ve got to work with me here.” You roll your eyes. ‘Work with you like that will never happen again.’ You think to yourself; you scramble to finish your message as you see the car lot of the church just ahead of the stoplight. 

–

It had only been two days after your family had come home, two days after your confession to the new and mysterious priest. Your boyfriend was back at it; it happened in your room this time. Somehow, it felt filthy and unholy. Not a bible in sight, not that there wasn’t one stuffed in your side table. It starts innocently, the knock on your door. “Hey, baby.” His voice is laced with sugar, sending a smile onto your face. “Your dad said I could walk up.” He says as he stands there at your doorframe. Waiting to be let in. You eye him up and down. A blue polo shirt, a pair of dark-washed jeans, and some black socks. You watch as he wiggles his toes on the hardwood floor. “Come in.” You say, opening the door and moving out of the way. He takes a seat at the edge of your bed. 

He’s been in there once or twice, always with the door open. But now, with the door closing, he climbs onto your bed to sit next to you. It doesn’t seem like that big of a deal. It seems like hours pass between you as he sits there with his arms draped ever so nicely over your shoulder, legs tabled as you press your hand and head into his chest. The air is calm all around you. You can even feel a hush heartbeat, a slow and steady beat against your ear. The movie plays with the words filling the bottom of the screen. 

Everything is copacetic. Nothing out of line happens as you give the remote to him to select a new movie. For a fleeting moment your mind travels to the week prior. Maybe his actions were one out of yearning. Perhaps it was just one little outlier in your relationship; everything is going on just fine, so there’s no reason to believe it would go awry. You snuggle deeper into his chest, breathing him in with every breath taken. 

Then, the bubble you have so extensively created shatters like a stained glass window pane. All your thoughts pause, your mind frozen in the blimp of time, your heart skipping a steady beat with your breath. The hand resting on his chest so nicely is being picked up and transplanted. You barely even registered it at first; you focused on the movie. It’s not until his giant hand is pressing your smaller, softer hand into the fabric of his jeans. The zipper leaves indents on your skin. It doesn’t hurt by any means, and when you finally look away from the screen, the shock is written on your face. “What are you doing?” The beautiful glass wall you’d built was crumbing rather quickly once you made eye contact with him. An evil grin was present on his features, a different sparkle in his eyes—a wicked grin.  Making you shriek and run away, or worse, not move at all. 

“Nothing, baby. Don’t worry about a thing, sweetheart.” He muttered into your hair, never once looking down at you. His eyes stick to the TV screen, but when you try to move his hand away. The veins within his hands popped, and his grip on your hand worsened. “Don’t. Move. Your. Hand.” His words are sharp, and you know for a fact he means every single word, even if you weren’t not looking right at him.

“You can’t go running, Daddy, and you can’t yell for him to come up here. What would he think about seeing you with your hand halfway down your boyfriend’s pants?” His tone sets it all. Fear boils in the back of your throat as you try desperately one last time to pull your hand from his grip. He looks down at you for the first time. His eyes are dark, and the fear at the back of your throat comes up. Squeezing your throat, making you mute and malleable to all of his actions. “Unzip my jeans.” His voice is controlled and quiet. It sends an uncomfortable shiver down my spine, shooting throughout my body. “Be a good girl and do what I’m tellin’ you.” Your boyfriend’s demands. You swallow hard and wiggle your hand out of his grip, cold metal touching the tips of your fingers as you drag down the zipper. 

The bulge your hand had been sitting over was even more prominent now. Hot even through the jeans and boxers that protect you from the inevitable, dangerous thing you are being pushed to do. “Now pull my cock out, baby, I know you wanna.” He whispers into your forehead. “What… I don’t….” The words get stuck—the air passing through your lips. “You don’t what? You don’t know how to jerk a cock? You need me to teach you, baby?” He sounds so cocky. 

You don’t say anything, so he takes it as a hint. He moves quickly, shifting just enough to pull down his jeans and boxers. Then he manhandles you and places you on his thighs. You’re staring. What else does he expect you to do? “Oh, you like what you see. I knew you would like what you saw once you saw it.” Your thighs burn as you try to balance yourself upon his lap. He grabs you sweetly, cupping your much more petite in his large one. “We’ll take it slow, baby, I promise.” His voice is slick with honey as you lean into the touch of his warm hand against your skin. “Okay.” You whimper out, and he grins like the Cheshire cat. “I’ll take of you, and you’ll take care of me, right?” He asks you; you bite the inside of your cheek. You were trying to understand his meaning for the last time and nod your head. 

It’s only until you’re walking down the stairs with him two hours that night that the horrible feeling begins to pit at the bottom of your stomach. You’ve done an awful thing. Your boyfriend had promised that nothing wrong had happened. Had you thought that because all you did was touch him and content that you were in the clear? But when he kissed your cheek and walked down to his truck, his words left no comfort in his wake. That crumbling sense in the pit of your stomach only grew as you washed your hands in the bathroom. The sticky feeling of his release is still all over your hands. As you slipped your purity ring off, the pit grew larger, threatening to swallow you whole. The banging on the bathroom door was the only thing that managed to drag you out of your quicksand thoughts. “Are you almost done in there? Mom said… oh you don’t give a shit, just can you move quicker.” You can hear your sister through the door and dry your hands off before slipping the ring back on and taking one last look at yourself in the mirror. 

You don’t look any different, but the feeling in your stomach and mind has you feeling differently. You feel like the minute you get downstairs, everyone will know because, well, doesn’t Christ already know you’ve sinned? 

– 

This Sunday church service starts like any other, gathering with the many of you through the doors. Your mother sets her purse down as if anyone will steal her spot and goes to talk with her friends before mass starts. Your father does the same, gathering to speak with his golf buddies in a small circle. Your sister and you sit side by side in utter and complete silence. The squeeze of your mother and father alerts you that the service is about to start. 

“I know I’m not your typical priest, but I hope I’m a suitable replacement. I’m Father Dixon. Most of you will worry about Father McPhobe; he has taken ill but is doing great. If you want to send anything to him, take that up with the director at the end of this service. Now let us get into today’s sermon.” The new priest spoke, his voice echoing off the walls. I opened my bible and went to listen. You heard your mother, for a moment, whisper to your father. “I hope Father McPhobe is okay, but I already like Father Dixion.” Your father hummed and looked down at his bible in his lap. 

You don’t think about it now. It’s just muscle memory for you, the standing, sitting, standing and singing, the sitting. At the same time, you pray with your family, the collection bowl going around to collect for whatever the church is sponsoring, and the eventual blood of Christ. Regardless of sitting and standing, you always get up to take the blood of Christ. You squeeze past your sister and a few others before getting in line. It’s not until you’re standing in that line that the voice bouncing off the walls and stained glass windows hit you like a freight train in your mind. 

It’s the same voice. The same voice from the confession booth. He knows your little secret and wants to see you today—your heart races against your breastbone. And when you’re finally in the front of the long line, the father gives you the cup, his finger grazing over yours, sending shivers down your spine and your sipping. His eyes never leave yours. “And the body of Christ, miss.” You take it and walk away. With every click and southern draw of his voice, it’s sure him. It’s him, for sure. You almost hope and pray and forget that he wanted to see you. He hasn’t heard you talk, so there’s no way he could know that it was you in the confession booth. You wonder if he even knows who you are? 

That thought gets answered quickly as you gather yourself together—your purse in one hand and your bible in the other. Your family walks down the aisle towards the door. The priest, the dark-haired priest, is standing there, greeting every single person, shaking their hands, and introducing himself just a little bit more. “Father Dixon, that was just a wonderful sermon today. I can’t tell you how sad it is to hear that Father McPhobe is ill.” Your father’s voice travels for every ear to hear, and as you try to hide behind your mother and father, it’s hard not to be recognized by others who work at the church. “My wife will be talking to the director to get a fund together for whatever Father McPhobe might need.” Your mother grins and nods her head along with her husband. “And this is our daughter.” Your father says, dragging you from mostly behind him. 

“You must be the one everyone is always talking about around here in all the support groups and even a part of other things. You are a true representation of a good Christian girl. You’ve raised her well.” Father Dixion says to your mother and father. Your mother bursts into a full grin, and your father laughs. “She’s the best.” “I hope you don’t mind if I steal her. I have a few new ideas concerning the Toys for Tots Christmas donation.” Your father shakes his head. “Just call me when you need me to pick you up, okay pumpkin.” He grabs your neck and kisses your forehead before ushering your family out. 

Now, the two of you stand there, alone yet crowded by the people still around. “Father Dixon?” He hums as he grabs someone’s hand and shackles, thanking them for coming to the service. “We’ll go talk after I’m done here, alright? Just take a seat other there, and I’ll come get you when I’m done.” His voice is thick southern and makes you wable as you walk towards a bench lining a wall not far from him. Not only does the thick southern accent have you drowning in an emotion or feeling you’ve never felt, but the authority in his voice is no different than in the confession booth. 

Time passes by slowly, but when the Father is done, you feel the smallest of taps on your shoulder. Bringing you out of your dozing-off state. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.” The father says, his hand resting on your shoulder. You look around to see that most people at the service have abandoned the main hall. “Everyone’s gone home?” You ask; he hums and walks towards the last two open doors. You quickly follow him down the hallway that turns into turns of rights and left until you’re closer to the staff section of the church. The walk back there is met with silence, neither one of you talking, and as much as you’d like to hear his voice more as you wander down the halls, you’re glad there aren’t words yet spoken. 

Because the reality is you don’t know what you would even say. 

When you do finally manage to get to his office, he opens the door like a gentleman, and you enter. “Excuse the boxes. I’m still trying to get settled.” He says with a chuckle. You take in the room, spacious and filled with a few boxes, most of which are already torn down and staked in the corner of the room. A large black desk sits in the back of the room, two chairs in front of it. You take it that he might have already had a few meetings. You’re too far distracted by looking around to notice that the Father had stripped himself of church attire or that he’s shut and locked the office door. Trapping you in the room with him, and no eyes on you. 

“For a Father, you dress surprisingly casually.” The words blurt out before you catch them and shove them deep down in your tummy. He shrugs his shoulders. A pair of dark-washed jeans that hold everything in just the right place, and a white button-up. He looks like he just got back from a work trip. You suppose he did. “Is this your normal church attire, seeing as I haven’t seen you here for the past two weeks.” His eyes rake over your frame. You had hoped the dress would work, but you wish you had gone for something less eye-catching. You look down at the dress and smooth the fabric on your lap. 

Father Dixon moves, resting his behind on the edge of the large desk, his ankles crossed as he stares down at you. His gaze was hot, and searing you. The silence grows, and of course, the father is the one to break it. “You don’t have to look so damn nervous and worried.” You hum, not listening to his words by any means. Relaxation doesn’t come easy to you as you sit there, fiddling with your thumbs, you get more and more nervous. 

You sense the shift in the room as the Father moves, taking a knee in front of you. He clears his throat, “Listen to me, yeah, take a few deep breaths.” His face is so pretty this closeup. Fluttering lashes, a set of beautiful sky blue eyes staring deep into your soul, and a set of very kissable lips, so puffy and pillow-like from this closeup. His hands ghost over your own, and it only makes you want to grab it. To ground yourself, of course, not because you desperately want to feel the way his hands feel in your own, or anything like that. “Breathe with me, in and out.” He coaches you, taking a deep breath in with you and exhaling with you. 

When he’s satisfied that you aren’t about to explode with anxiety, he gets up from his kneeling position, and grabs you cold water from the mini-fridge. “Gotta keep the lunch cold.” He says as if he needs to explain why he’s got a mini fridge in his office. You watch him the entire time as he bends over to grab the water from the bottom tiny shelf how he rounds out the jeans in a most perfect way. How long his large and imposing frame truly is. You have to move your eye quickly when he shuts the door to the fridge and swings around. You take the water from his hands, fingers grazing over the top of his hand. You swallow and unscrew the lid like you’ve been stuck in the desert without water for days. 

He watches out; you can see him out of the corner of your eye. Biting his bottom lip, and for a moment, you wonder what he must be thinking about. You wonder what goes through the mind of a priest. You don’t get the chance to ask him because he’s back to controlling the conversation, not that you mind. Too fear you might stumble over your words without a topic already at hand. “You’re the young woman from the booth a few weeks ago, right?” He asks, you nearly squeeze the water bottle and get ice-cold water all over yourself, but you don’t Instead, you gag a little and cough before screwing the cap back on and staring up at him for the first time and really staring at him, not looking at him but over his shoulder. His eyes tear you apart in a way you’ve never felt before. You nod still not trusting your voice, and now your words. 

“So everything has been going well since your last confession?” He asks, as if it’s a casual conversation you would have a person on the side of the street. You manage only a quiet mumble of a “Yes, Father Dixon.” He chuckles, “When it’s just the two of us, you can call me Daryl, ya know.” He says as he takes a seat beside you in the other chair. But he does light up at your response. “That’s wonderful, so I shouldn’t be hearin’ your voice in my confession booth ever again?” He asks, the authority all coming back. Demanding me never to come back, but something is growing deep down. It’s been growing for the past few weeks.

You smile, but it’s brought with a shrug of your shoulders. Making the see-through fringe crinkle as your shoulder bobbed. His brow raises like the Father is about to be disappointed, instead, he just wants to know what’s been happening. “So something did happen? For a sin for lying and one for whatever you’re about to tell me.” You swallow down hard, making your throat bob up and down. Your head shakes, as if you’re just a puppet on someone else strings. 

“We… and he… it was going so normal and innocent, but then.” You fumble over your words. A large hand comes over to rest on your much smaller one. Rough calluses on the pads of his fingers and palm bring you out of your rambling state and gets your attention back on him. “You can tell me. Just take your time, sweetheart.” His nickname makes you shiver as you try to grow the confidence to tell the Father now everything that happened without the mesh wall in the way, and while his hand is wrapped in yours. Supportive or not, it drives you crazy. “He, um finished. Made it to the end of the line, all over us.” You’re trying your hardest not to cring at your own words. 

Then, something passes over his face—hate, disgust, embarrassment. You can’t read him well enough to understand what it means, but he ends up repeating his previous words. “So one sin for lying, and another sin for whatever the two of you got up to together.” his voice is dripped with authority, and his grip on your hand loosens before eventually drifting away. A large part of you wants to drag his hand back, but you don’t. “I have sinned, Father Dixion.” You say, blush creeping up from nowhere onto the apples of your cheeks. 

Father Dixon shifts in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and letting the almost consume you. “I don’t think asking for forgiveness will wash away your sins this time, sweetheart.” There’s that damn nickname again. It sweeps across your mind like a broom, leaving nothing behind in its wake except thoughts of what other nicknames he might call you. What nicknames you would call Father Dixon or Daryl? Or whatever you’re supposed to call him. The words rush from your mouth, “I’ll do anything!” A seductive smirk grows on his face, inching closer and closer to his ears. “Anything?” He echos. “Yes, anything. I promise anything.” 

“Will you show me how he made you touch him? Because I know you didn’t start all that inappropriate touching. You’re too good to be groping men while behind closed doors, right?” Your eyes shift towards the closed doors, and you swallow hard. Your gaze travels back to Daryl, your priest. Father Dixon. The minute your eyes meet, the fear and worry wash away. Something about him is so dominating and calming at the same time; it confuses you and sets you on edge. “I’ll do anything if it will wash away my sins. I’ll do whatever you want, Daryl.” The minute his name leaves your mouth, his hands are on you. He’s up in a matter of seconds, and manhandling you to place you on the sturdy desk beneath you.

Your dress hikes up with the movement; Daryl slots himself between your open legs. Hiking up the skirt even further. “So what did he do first?” He asks you. The heat radiating off his body fries your brain for a moment before your senses pick up on the cologne that’s now wrapped around the both of you. He smiles like fall nights when the leaves are crunchy, and the sandalwood. It lulls you further into a calm state, “We were laying together on my bed; he was holding me so gently at first.” Your words come better now, and for whatever reason, you continue. “Then he was moving my hand, the one that was resting on his chest down further. Pressing it into his jeans.’ You swallow and watch as Daryl tries to mimic the movements. 

He grabs your hand, dragging it down his chest and towards the buckle of his dark-washed jeans. You can feel the familiar heat, the tent in his pants more significant than your boyfriends. He’s slow with every movement. Taking baby steps. “Then what?” He asks once he’s trapped your smaller hand between his own and his jeans. “He pressed my hand into it; I tried asking him what he was doing, but he said he wasn’t doing anything.” He rolls his eyes but presses your hand softly into the tent of his jeans. 

Voice low and raspy. “This right here is how turned on I am right now. The tent in my jeans right here. That’s the cause of you, sweet girl.” Darly murmurs sweetly into your ear. You shudder as his words send shivers down your spine, and his confession takes you aback. “What happened after, huh?” He groans out as your hand wiggles under the pressure. “When I tried to move my hand, he got angry, tried yelling at me, then switched tactics.” Darly stares deep into your ear, nearly noses brushing together. “Do you want me to tell you what to do now, too?” The question throws you way off bases nearly out into the empty field. “Yes, please, Daryl.” You say under your breath. He gives you a moment before pressing you for more information. “He made me unzip his, um… his jeans, and he called me a good girl.” The last part of your sentence is hushed mostly under your breath, but because the two of you are so close, it’s not that hard for Daryl to hear you. 

“Did you like it when he called you a good girl? Do you wanna try and be a good girl for me?”He asks you, and without hesitation, you’re nodding. Pleading him practically to tell you that you’re doing a good job even if it’s him guiding your hand. “Well then, unzip my jeans, and I’ll treat you like a good girl deserves to be treated..” He whispers into your ear. His nose brushed up against the top of your ear. You do as you are told, unzipping the zipper. The only sound you can hear is your heartbeat in your ears and the erratic breathing of Daryl in front of you. 

The weight of his cock sits heavy on your hand. His red and angry tip leaking pre-cum all over your fingers and hand. Your stare is serious yet it seems that Daryl isn’t bothered by it. The two of you are so close, somehow inching closer together. “God, you’re hands are so soft and tiny…” Daryl groans as you try to wrap your hand around the girth of his cock but fail. You barely manage to get your pointer finger and thumb to touch, and that’s just around the head of his cock. “What else did he ‘teach’ you, huh? Did you tell you how fast to jerk his cock off? Did he have to edge him until her busted all over your hand and pretty little fingers?” His questions are sent into a hot flash. You don’t want to remember what your boyfriend asked you; you care that right now you’re jerking off your priest cock in the church you’ve been going to since you were a child, and you feel no remorse at all. It makes you feel giddy, and with that comes more confidence. Fast and sloppier strokes to Daryl’s cock cause his head to fall forward. Bumping into yours, you breathe him in as if you’ll never get another chance. His grains turn into breathy moans as you swipe your sticky thumb over the tip of his cock. 

“God, you’re so good at this, and I can’t… “ He bites his lip to cover the words at the back of his throat. Trying not to take advantage has turned into taking advantage of you. You seem to be playing along for now, and as long as you are playing, why not have fun with it as well? One of his hands falls to the wooden desk next to one of your hips. He’s desperately searching for a grip on something. “Are you gonna cum, Father Dixon?” You ask him, you’re soaked, dripping in honey. He nearly moans when your other hand rubs his balls, “Say my name!” He demands it of you, and you oblige happily. “Cum all over my hand, Daryl… Please, I want to see what you look like when you cum. Please won’t you cum for the innocent young women, Daryl.” Your words make your stomach do flips, so you can only imagine how to push him over the edge as he grains and tries not to shout your name for the whole church to hear. 

It’s not til after Father Dixon had cleaned himself up and stuffed himself back into his jeans that he looks up at you. Still sitting there on the edge of his desk, you’re so fucking pretty. Innocent is wrapped around you like a halo glowing brightly in the background, but he fears he might have awakened something within you. “You’re a picture, a beaut.” He mutters under his breath as he presses his lips into yours. You frozen for a moment, and he worries he’s crossed over that line but not so many others. Then you’re melting. Melting into his lips, his touch, and his hold. You’re melting into him. Your lips are delicious, tasting of cherry lip smacker and a ting of coffee still left from your morning before church. Daryl tastes just as good. A minty freshness left behind, but there’s something else you can’t place your tongue on yet. 

“What am I supposed to do now, Daryl? Have I been washed of my sins? And my boyfriend, what about him?” You ask the father; he closes his eyes and presses his forehead into yours. Thinking for a moment that seems to span on forever. “How about you wait for a good, right, mature man to come and take care of you?” he offers, “Someone who can take care of me, you say.” his words bounce around in your mind as you text your father that you’re meeting with Father Dixion had been eye-opening, and that you were done. Before Daryl allows you even to leave his office, “You should have my phone number just in case you need some help with the toys for tots,” Daryl says as he stops in his spot. When he turns, your phone is already out, and on your new contacts page, he names himself Father Daryl and proceeds to text himself. Daryl is quick to walk to the front door of the church. Waving at your father. “Come to me whenever you’re ready.” He whispers into your ear as you pass him and get in your father’s truck. 

“That was a long meeting.” Your father comments, and for the first time since church ended, you look at the clock. Service had finished at noon, and now it was nearly three. You wonder where the time had escaped. “He just wanted to get to know me; I’m on all the committees here, so he managed to get a lot of information and help from me.” Your father grins at you. “You’re the best, you know that. The best daughter I could have asked for Pumpkin.” Your father’s words make you look back at your situation with the priest. Best is not what you would call it. Your sister wouldn’t call you that it, and neither would your mother, nor what you had done with the priest of your church. Your shrug the thought off, and think only of Daryl for the rest of the ride home. 

---

Third Meeting 

You aren’t sure where the sudden ache between your thighs is coming from you’re just sure that Father Daryl Dixon is all you’ve been able to think about recently. All you think about is the way his cock felt in your hand. The way it felt, how it pulsed in your hand as your words reached his ear with pleasure. How when you had finally arrived home you noticed just how wet your panties were, and wondered if there would be a next time. 

Daryl had made it out to seem like there would be a next time, but you only wondered when you would be able to get your hands on him again. It seemed that your one ‘meeting’ with the father had changed your whole course of being. You had not changed outwardly into a different person by anymeans, but the things you thoughts weren’t what an innocent girl that went to church, and worked in the soup kitchen thought. Daryl, knowingly or not had changed you forever. 

So, a few nights latter when the itch to feel the same feeling between your legs arised your jumped at it. Except what are you supposed to put into the google search engine. Confused you looked between your phones screen and your bedroom door, then back to your phone. Without a second thought you placed your phone down on your bed, and lifted the covers back to padd across your floor to your sisters bedroom door. You knocked gently before waiting for a response. 

Nothing, so you knocked again. “I need to ask you something?” You barley whispered it through the wooden door. A few moments passed, and then it was opened. A begruded look on your sisters face. As if she was annoyed at your sudden knocking at her door. “What do you want?” She asked rolling her eyes at you. You cleared your throat. “I… how do…why…” You mumbling only caused her to get more aggravated at you. Grabbing your forearm she dragged you into her room. 

In comparison her room wasn’t much different then yours. The shared bathroom between was the only room your both used on a daily basis but it was kept neutral. Posters, and othe things hung on the wall of her room. Darker sheets, and paint. “What do you need?” She asked again as she shut her bedroom door. You wiggled your nose trying to come up with some sort of words to express yourself. She stared at you for a long minute before shaking her head. “Are you in my room because mom and dad sent you in here to make sure I was still alive?” She asks venom laced around each word. “NO!” Shouting catching the both of you off guard. Then the words that you weren’t able to find earlier come all flooding out at once. “I wasjust wondering what that feeling you know  between your thighs is? Also how do I get it back?” You asked her and as the words hit your ears and her the embarrassment came rolling back and the confidence went out the window. She gigglese and then laughs at you. Then notices that you aren’t joking or pulling her leg.

 “Oh my god you’re serious?” She asks, you swallow and nod. “Oh you sweet child.” She mutters as she walks closer to you, your sister talks to you like your the younger sister sometimes. Regardless of that though, she sit down next to you on her bed. “What have you been doing with that boyfriend of yours?” She asls wiggling her brows at you, you shake your head, and start o confess to her but before you can get the words out of your mouth she’s ranting on about what you’ve got to do. “So you’re talking about that feeling between your thighs, that wet feeling that sorta aches right?” She asks just verifying, you nod unable to speak words at this moment. “So if you aren’ with your boyfriend then you can just look up something on internet. But make sure that your engine is on private, so if mom and dad go snooping they can’t that their perfect daughter is perfect anymore.” Your sisters last words aren’t filled with jealously or even envy. It’s almost sounds like she’s relieved that she isn’t the one that the sun shines on everyday. 

“What do I search up?” You ask even if the embarrassment to crushing your lungs of oxygen. “Here I’ll show you.” She grabs her phone off the side table. Swiping through a few screen before landing on a search engine and then she clicks it over to private, “That button might be somewhere else if you aren’t using the same search engine as I am.” She notes, before continuing. In the private engine shetypes quickly, but the words are in big bold letters to your eyes. “Just look up porn, or maybe you’re an audio person they’ve got some of that too.” You sisters adds once again. Your cheeks feel as if they’re on fire, but for the first time you’re having a normal conversation with your sister its feels like years since you’ve talked like normal people to each other. 

“Is this the first time we’ve talked in years?” You comment as you look around her room, she chuckles. “Probably.” Again she doesn’t sounds like she full of envy or that she’s even mad at you. “I’m just glad I’m not you.” Her words hit you in an uncomfortable way, “what do you mean?” You asks not fully understanding, “I just mean that when you fall, you’re going to land hard and fast on the ground that you’ve created.” You still don’t understand, “Mom and Dad seen a perfect girl, and when they learn of whatever is going on with you the world you’ve created for them of you is going to crash and burn.” It sounds like sound advice if you can call it advice. You nod, “Thanks.” Is all you say. The two of you sit in silence for a minute, before she groans out. “Get out of my room now, I was trying to sneak out before you rudely interrupted me.” You laugh and shake your head. “If you don’t tell mom and dad about me sneaking out I won’t tell them about our conversation.” She adds, “Sounds fair.” You say before getting up and walking out of her room.

The sun had already set byt the time you make it back to your bedroom, so you shift around to close your blinds. Before coming back to your door slipping the door locked before climbing back into your bed and grabbing your phone before getting under the covers. Your slick sleepwear isn’t that much of a barrier. As you settle under your sheet you get a message from your sister. “I’d wear headphones too, big sis.” She texts, sending a thumbs up before digging around in your side table for a pair of loose headphones to jack into your phone. 

You follow your sisters directions with ease. Clicking on the search enegie, and maing sure that it’s in private mode before search those big bold words that are stucking to the back of your eyes. Your fingers are slowler then your sisters, but you get there all the same. You’re bombarded with images of naked women, and men. It causes you to panic for a minute, before you remember what your sister said to you. “Audio” That was also an option, so going up to the search engine of the dirty website you put something simple into the bar. “Audio for women.” It takes a moment for the spinning circle of death to stop spining but then a few video popped up. This time there weren’t naked women and men that filled your screen. Instead drawn images with much better working titles, with that one catches your eye. 

You click the video the mans voice filtering through the headphones and right into your ears. It soothes you as his accent lulls you into a comfort. ‘You’re so wet for me love.’ the voice mutters into your ears. Starting off with no warning but it doesn’t matter as your set your phone and shift under the covers of your bed. Grabbing at the hem of your sleepwear shorts. The silk falls off your warm body to the bottom of the bed. ‘I bet you’re wet for me, being such a good girl for me.’ the man talks again, your moan lightly as your fingres graze over the wet spot that’s been getting wetter and wetter by the second. ‘You want me to play with your little clit, yeah I bet ya want me to make you feel good baby.’ as the man keeps talking the more you get into it.Your own fingers playing your clit through the soaked fabric, it’s not until the voice tells you that he wants you take off your panties do you. Kicking them to the edge ofthe bed under the covers. 

‘Now I want you to sink to of your fingers in baby. Get them all wet and soaked.’ The voice says in your ear, you moan at the intrude of your own fingers at your weeping hole. You trying to widden your legs to get more leverage but it only leaves you open to more of a stretch and for a fliting second your minds travels to Daryl and his hands. How large just one of his fingers are in comparison to yours. How the stretch of just one of his fingers would feel like. ‘Now I want you to pump your fingers slowly, and then get up to speed that comfortable for you doll.’ You nod your head at the words of a stranger, the angle is a little odd for your hand but you get used to it as the two of your longer inch to places you’ve never thought you could reach. 

The strange voice keeps talking walking you through the motion, then he tells  you that he wants you to rub your clit. ‘Rub your clit for me baby, but don’t stop pumping your fingers in and out of your cunt. I know you wanna cum all over your fingrs baby and this is how you’re gonna get there.’ the voice murmurs. A vibration ringing through your ears as your cheeks feel as if they’re on fire like the rest of your body. An unfamiliar bubble rolls around at the bottom of the tummy. The ache returns and then you figure it out. If your circle your clit just as fast as your fingers leave and return to the wet walls of your cunt your vision will go blurry and you’ll finally reach that desperate high you’re aching for so badly. Second by second the pleasure grows until your eye rolls back and the urge to scream swallows you whole. Except nothing comes out at all, your breath is gone and your scream is silent. Your legs shake under the confindes of the covers and you’ve created a wet spot that travels through your sheet. 

You remove your fingers from your cunt, and take a few longer moments to catch your breath. One full breath in and out doesn’t do enough to catch up with your heartbeat that’s been racing in one of your ears since one of the earplugs had come out with the trashing of your body. The video keeps playing until it ends and you’re quick to pulls away from the covers, and turns the video off and delete any trace of it off your phone. You reach down under the covers once you’ve gotten yourself stable, grabbing for both your panties and shorts. You opt for a new pair of panties and slip them on before the shorts. You fix your bed up with new sheets and comb a few stray hairs out of your face before returning back to your bed. 

You’re drawn from your dizzying, comfortable haze when a message passes over your lock screen. You catch the time, nearly eight at night. You breath deeply before clicking on the message. 

“You’ve been ignoring me.” The message reads. “I wasn’t meaning to, just have had a lot of things with church.” You type out and send to him, “Of course you have.” He response. “What do you mean?” You ask him, “I’m just sayin’ that you’ve never got time for us.” He’s got to be joking, you’ve always had time for him, he just never wants to do anything other touch you nowadays. “I always make time for you, but you never want to just hang out.” You type no anger just confusion is what bubbles up in your chest. “Of course I want to do more then hang out, we’ve been together for what like at least a few months now.” He sends back. You rolls your eyes at the redundant manner of the conversation. “We’ve already talked about this I’m not ready.” You respond, your response is point blank just like how it is when you’re talking to each other in person. “Yeah I figured as much when you’re acting like a tease but won’t put out for your own boyfriend.” He sends back and ou shake your head at the whole thing. “Well then maybe we should break up since you aren’t getting what you thought we were gonna get from me.” You send, without regret. A message is back in a matter of seconds. “Gladly, just know you won’t find anyone who’s willingly able to deal with your virgin ass.” He sends and then that’s it. Because what are you to say to that. He’s acting like a child, but you assume that’s no longer your problem is it. 

You sit there for a long moment, figuring out what you’re supposed to do now. You were floating on cloud nine, and now you’re at the the bottom of the ocean. Deep in your feelings, your can’t swim and even if you wanted to you can’t image you would want to swim to the top that’s until you’re scrolls through your phone in your contacts, and see Father Daryls contact. No image associated with the contact just his name, and an idea strikes you straight in your heart. You click on his contact, licking your lips you breath in deeply before writing out a message out to him. 

“Where are you right now, Daryl?” You send the message you wait for it to show that it been delivered and then that its been read. A few moments pass, and then you see those dots that dance at the bottom of your screen. “I’m in my office.” He response, when the dots finally stop dancing “Are you finally taking me on my offer?” Daryl asks you, your fingers move on their own accord. Typing out a message, exposing yourself to him. “I’m taking you up on your offer, Daryl. All I’ve been thinking about have been you. Your cock and how I want you to touch and make me feel like i felt when I leave you last week.” You type out, automatically there’s a winking emoji in your thread of messages. “You okay drive in the dark?” He asks you, “Yeah, let me just change out of my clothes.” You type out. 

“Be here in ten.” Is the last message you get from him before your drop your phone on the bed, and shift around your room to grab something more appropriate to go for a late night drive. You go for a pair of yoga pants and a loose t-shirt. One that your father had given to you when it no longer fit him in the stomach area. Grabbing your purse, and phone to quietly walk down the stairs. Your mother and father sitting in the living, your mother is the one that sees you first. “Where are you going?” She asks, looking down at her watch. You had seen the time before you left your room. “It’s nearly 9 at night.” Your father looks up from the basketball running on the tv. “You know my friends who’s got some family issues?” You ask your mother, she nods and waits for more information. “She need somewhere to crash for tonight. Her parents are in a really bad fight with each other tonight.” I say. Lying to my mother, for a meeting with my priest. “Oh poor girl, well you go be a good friend sweetie.” Your mother says looking back down at her book. “Just be safe please.” You father adds before returning his attention to the basketball game. 

You let go of the breath you didn’t realize that you were holding. You unlock the car door the minute you get outside. That’s when you see your sister climbing down the side of the house. You both eye each other and nod before looking away from each other. You get into the car fast, and turning on the engie and rolling down the drive way. The ten minutes are cutting it short when you get stopped at a few stop lights, but you still manage it. Pulling into the same spot that you had used when you had arrived at the church for your first confess. A ding rings through your car. You look through your purse for your phone. “Front door is locked, use the side door.” It reads. You nod to yourself as your cut the engine and grab your purse and lock the door before walking towards the side door. 

It’s not until you’re opening the door that you realize how scary the church is when there’s nobody there and it’s dark. You travel through the halls some dark and some bright with overhead lights flickering on and off. When you make it to his office, the door only cracked a little bit you still knock. “Come in.” He answers. His office is different then just a few days ago. The boxes are gone, and the things that littered his floor are either put up on shelves or are on his desk. He’s wearing from where you can see him another button up. “Hello sweetheart.” His accent running through the words. You standing there with your purse in front of you, but there’s an excited smile on your face. He returns the smile, and the smile grows even larger when you the next sentence comes flowing from your mouth. 

“I broke up with my boyfriend, well I guess he’s now my ex-boyfriend.” You say with a shrug of your shoulders. His eyes are huge. Large blue discs staring at you. “You said what?” He says to you as he caps his pen and places it in the pen holder on his desk. He pats his lap, motioning me over with that ‘Come here’ pointer finger motion. You move quickly over to him, dropping your purse in one of the empty chairs in front of his desk. He grins up at you as you round the daks and take a seat in his lap. “Tell me again.” He says as he wraps a arm your wasit to hold you tight on his lap. “I broke up with my ex.” “And how did he take it?” Darly asks, Your brows raise, and he manages to get what you’re trying to say without saying a single word. “Like a baby I’m guessing.” Daryl finishes, you nod. “His lost anyways.” Daryls adds, which makes your cheeks burn from the smile that hasn’t left your beautiful face since you arrived at the church. 

“You know how beautiful you are don’t you?” Daryl stats as he sweeps a fewstray hairs away from your face. You blush hard as your ears and cheek grow hot from his statement and his stare. You shift in his lap, and try to squeeze your thighs together to relieve the tiny bit of ache between them. “I asked you a question baby.” He says more stern, you nod as you look away from him. “Maybe I should show you just how beautiful you really are. What do you think about that?” You can’t help the way your body runs with shivers of anticipation. 

“Come on princess,” Daryl mutters as he shifts you in his lap and then swipes away from of the things on his desk to make a place for you to sit there. You wait for him to manhandle you and place you there. “Did you wear these just for me?” he asks you as his rubs his hands up and down your outer thighs. You hum with excitement and answering his questions. He looks down and sees that you wearing a pair of black flats. Slipping thoese off first before returning to the yoga pants. You help him as you arche your body, so he can slip them off just like your shoes. “You’re so sweet for me.” He says as he pushes your legs apart, and doesn’t lose time. He thumbs your clothed clit, you mewl at the sudden and strong attention to your starving cunt. 

The longer he plays with your clothes clit the more the ache grows. Building and building until you feel like you’re about to explode but then he’s letting up, and leaving you there wondering what’s about to happen next. You beg him for more, for him to start again. “Please… oh please don’t stop. Keep touching me please Daryl.” You beg him from below him. The hardwood surface is the only thing keeping you cool. Your voice strains as you bed him even more. The little touches that he’s giving you between your thighs with little kisses and licks of your skin aren’t enough anymore not when he’s already teased you with his thumb on your clit. 

“Oh princess I am touching you. I’m touching you right now.” Daryl chuckles, you roll your eyes and groan. “Be more specific love.” He says. There’s a sort of silence that takes the two over, not that he’s not touching you he’s just not where you so desperately want him. “Use your…” Your head falls back with pleasure as it hits the desk as his hand grazes up your soaked panties to lightly pass your clit. “I want your mouth on me!” You pratically scream out.  He grins a devilish grin, “See princess that’s all you had to say to me.” He says beore he dropsto his knees and widdens your legs more but not before he slips your wet panties off. They land somehwere not that you care where they are right now. 

His tongue is prodding at your weeping hole, while his thumbs stays on your now exposed clit. The touch intenisfies by a ten fold. Every rub and circle sends shockwaves through your body. One of your hands land in the messy bun of his hair as you direct him. He hums as you forced him where you desperatly need him. As he hums it sends waves of pleasure through your cunt “There she is, use me baby girl.” He mutters against your cunt. Daryl stay agasunt your wet cunt, and it doesn’t take long for you to be grinding up agasint his mouth. When you’re close you try to warn him, but he lets go of you with a pop. His chin and nose wet with your juices. “You’re so tight around my tongue baby girl.” He says as he make direct eye contact with you. He’s gasping for air, but seems to be enjoying himself between your thighs. “You cum whenever you to baby girl. I just wanna make you feel good.” he murmurs as he presses a few tiny wet kisses against your lower belly where the t-shirt had raised up. 

Giving you promise and returns Daryl is back on your cunt, enjoying his meal like he’s about to get a death penalty. It’s when your legs start to shake, and your toes curl that you know you’re done for “OH…PLease don’t stop I’m so close!” You shout and tug at his hair and pull Daryl even further into your cunt as your eyes roll into the back of your head, letting out a silent scream has your lungs burning for oxygen when you come down from your long high. 

“There she is.” Daryl mutters as you come too. His eyes are hooded with a dark pleasure. You body feels weak, but you want him all the same. “So pretty when you cum.” Daryl says as he presses his lips into yours. Oxygen be damned he consumes you and you like the taste of yourself on your tongue. When he pulls back you can see the evident hard on in his pants. You go to reach forward but are denied. “I want to fuck you don’t worry about that baby girl, but not here.” You notch your head to the side, as you look at around the office. “Then where?” You ask, he smirks down at you. “Good Girl” He mutters as he steps away from you to grab your discarded clothes and your flats. He helps you back into your clothes, and tells you to grab your purse. “Wait here while I lock the door and then we can leave.” 

It doesn’t take Daryl too long to get everything together, before he’s back at your side. And in this moment and only thing moment do you notice the difference in your age. He’s got gray hairs the are filtering through his hair, and beard. The crow feet that lays between his eyes and his forehead. But it all disappears when he grabs your hand and take you towards the same door you walked into just an hour ago. “Your car locked up?” He ask as the two of you pass by it, you nod and for extra measure you lock it waiting for the beeping noise to ringin through the empty parking lot. “Good girl.” he says to you as he opening his passenger side door for you, and then walks around to get in the drivers side. 

The drive to you assume his house is a silent one, the roads not fully empty but drained of life on a tuesday night. The stoplights cause a little panic to grow at he pit of your stomach. “Stop worrin’ baby girl.” He says softly as he reaches over and grabs your hand squeezing it gently. “I’m not worrying I just want you to get there faster, so you can fuck me already.” Your own words shock you and make you laugh. His eyes don’t leave you until a car behind you disturbed the silence of his stare on you. The light green Daryl decides it’s probably best to speed the ride to his house up a little bit.

He pulls into the drive way, and put the car in park. You’re to excited to wait for Daryl to be a gentleman and open your door for you. You bust the door open before manages to get to your side of the car. “Eager I see.” Thats all he magaes to get before you’re on his. Lips on lips. Teeth on teeth. Theres no fight for dominance you just want to taste him again. “Shit baby!” he mutters agaisnt your lips as he nearly stumbles over the steps. “I didn’t know that priest were allowed to curse.” You tease him. He rolls his, “There’s a whole lot of things you’re about to learn about me baby.” He says. Daryl practically shoves you into his house, there’s no tour not really. You might count it since you get a glimpse of most of the room, as the two of you shove each into walls to get your tongue and lips on each other. “No marks.” You remind him. “You’ve gotta keep looking innocent on the outside but nobody said I can’t ruin your insides.” Daryl comments as he opens his bedroom. 

Your clothes are littering the floor, between shoes. Your back is arche down as your head lays into mattress. Your ass high in the air, wiggling it back and forth. “Come on put it in already, Daryl. I’ve been begging for hours now.” You beg him, he groans as he jerks his cock in his hand, You spent what felt like forever preparing. You had taken his tongue again, and then two rounds of his fingers. Sinking further and further into your wet cunt. “I just don’t wanna break you.” You hear him mutters to you from behind you. “You’re not gonna break me, now just fuck me already!” You beg him once more, and when you feel the notch of his head intrude your wet, and warm hole your eyes roll. You’re stuffed and he’s not even halfway in. He’s slow deliberately slow, letting you inch and inch yourself onto his cock. Taking everything you can get until you hit the hilt of his cock. Balls slapping againt your clit. You’re overfilled and overloaded with every sense. You can feel that you’re holding your breath, and so can Daryl. 

“I’m not moving till you breath.” He says gently, that’s the last time you here a gentle demeanor come from him. Once you take your breath and let it go he’s slipping almost all the way out, and then all the way back in. A large hand grabs a fist full of your hair at the base of your neck and pulls your head of the the soft bed and up, arching your back to get even deeper and deeper within you. You moan out in pleasure, your sense are like fried wires. If anything touches you you think you might explode under the pressure. “Oh fuck sweet girlm sotight around my cock. Got me thinkin’ I’m gonna cum like a teenaged boy again. His thrusts are calculated and the way his hips hit you as you bouncing. 

The other uncuppied hand finds your jiggling tits. Sqquzing and teasing your taught nipples. He rolls one between his thumb and pointer fingers. Your head hangs back over your shoulder, and lands on his shoulder. “Daryl, you’re so… fuck so big.… feel so full.” You babble on and on, it only encourages him further. Pounding into with vigour he hasn’t felt in ages. He changes tactics, removing his hand in your haid and placing it around your waist. His large hand finding it’s place against your clit, as he feels his cock pound in and out of your cunt. “You feel me? Pounding into you?” He asks, reaching for one of your hands to place where his was. Your shock is aduioable in your voice, you can feel him pressed up against your lower tummy. It all but pushes you over the edge. “There, cum all over my cock baby it’s alright love.” He whispers into your ear. Shivering you shake your head, and counter him “Together, please together!” You beg him. “You want me?” You don’t allow him to finish his sentence, “In me please Daryl. Cum in me.” It pushes him over a water falls edges and he takes you with him. He explodes with you, as he circles your clit and kisses you till you’re both fighting for air. You collapse together on to the bed. He can feel him leave you and as he does you whine with lose. What Daryl see is a sight he never wants to loose. A thick rope of his seed leaking from your cunt and onto his sheets. He wishes he could take a mental picture of it and keep it forever, but he can’t so he opts for something else. Grabbing your panties off the floor he slips them gently back on to your ass. “What are you doing?” You ask weakly. “Keeping you nice and stuffed that all princess.” He says as he leaves to grab and wash clothes and some water for both of you. 

Breathless and tired, you look over at Daryl. “You’re so handsome.” You say shyly; even though you’ve been royally fucked within an inch of your life and cursed like a sailor, you’re still shy saying the simplest of words. “Oh, princess, you’re out of this world.” He says with a warm smile. Yet that smile is drowned out by his words. “I should be gettin’ you back to your car.” He turns to you, and you shake your head violently. “No, not yet.” You say, climbing into his lap. “Let’s just stay like this.” You mutter as you grind into him and lean down for another sweet kiss. He groans as his hands cup your ass and pull you forward. “Okay, but just a little longer, yeah.” He murmurs against your lips.

Completed on: 11/13/23

Posted on: 11/16/23

The Law-